Janet and Henry

Well, Santa did stop at our humble abode. My annual disappointment: he didn't leave me Darlene Love's singing voice. I have been asking for it for years and won't stop in the near future, but otherwise it was a very Merry Christmas.

My too-good-to-be-true husband showered me with the best of the best. One box was found on the dining room table on the afternoon of the 23rd, and the other nine stacked like shingle bundles on his side of the closet. I am glad he accidentally left one box out for an early discovery. A ten place setting of Fiesta ware, color: RED. We can use them Christmas Eve, how grand.



Now this wasn't a grab something quick event. I had been trying to make a Fiesta color selection for more than a few years and on the 23rd decided to drop the big hint. Color, what else, RED.





What in the world was I waiting for? So Ron, armed with the big hint and a fifteen percent off coupon, marched into Herbergers.

A ten place setting involves a little more than a big shopping bag. Each place setting has its own fairly good sized box (bigger than a shoe box) and he threw in some accessories: cake pan, salt and pepper shaker, cream and sugar bowl, and an oval bowl, (remember: too-good-to-be...). I was traipsing around the mall, swooping in on other purchases, I wasn't available to help with the haul. Besides, I didn't even know if my hint took. But just in case, I plied him the with the coupon; $121.00 savings - my mother would be so proud of him!

Now this Fiesta story has a wee mystery of its own. Christmas Eve afternoon I was taking each place setting out of the box and piling them up, as well as rearranging the cupboards to house my new prize(s). Too many auction sales, mom's, grandma's and Aunt Vi's dinnerware and glassware has made for overcrowding. And now there were even more to fill the cupboards.

Back to the unsolvable puzzle. I get to the third box and I open it and find this note.



And wrapped up on the side of the box is another set of salt and pepper shakers. I still don't know what to make of it. A wedding present it seemed, returned? Never delivered? Did poor Janet and Henry receive some acknowledgement?

So what do I do with it? I feel guilty putting somebody's gift in my cupboard.
Should I go to the store and ask if there is any hope of tracing the gift?

Well, I will have to think about it. But I was so ever curious as I opened the remaining seven boxes. But Janet and Henry didn't come through. Just like Santa and that chantuesey voice of Darlene Love.

Addendum: My ever so keen eye spotted Aqua Fiesta ware in "A Christmas Story", while Ralphie was dreaming of the Red Ryder (shoot your eye out) BB Gun.

Happy Holidays!!

After a long hiatus of writing I thought I would jump back in during the Christmas season. And besides, I was going a bit batty trying to put together a photo insert for cards. Now each Christmas card has the blog address and the recipient can read a recapitulation of the Espeseth - Davis family. You know the kind: everybody is rich, happy, straight A students, with excessive cuteness everywhere. Ya well, you're on the wrong blog.

I do have to say Ron and I are both enjoying retirement; what's not to like??? We have done some traveling but with two kids still at home it isn't easy. We have our little interests that keep us from too much horizontal couch time. I do some writing and lots of reading, as well as dabble in the stock market, which is a huge time hog - looking for the potential "screamers." Ron helps out at the Dakota Territory Air Museum and puttering around the house. We played lots of golf this summer. He still has the plane. We flew to Rapid City and Detroit Lakes this summer with yours truly as the ever irritating copilot.

Our blended family is big, and we scored one more in 2010. Carter Allen Espeseth was born to Erik and Nicki and brother Collin on March 1. They are living on the farm where Erik grew up. Erik is a locomotive engineer, and they raise cattle. Collin started kindergarten in September.



Nicole and Robert moved to Magnolia from Lynnwood in the Seattle area. Robert works for F5 Networks (nice stock!)and the move decreased his commute by about 55 minutes giving him more time with Lainey (3 3/4) and Beau who's almost 2. They are remodeling their new house so Nic is juggling lots of projects including a "move out for four months" while the renovation takes place. Grandpa, Lacy and I were there for a week in July while Robert was in Singapore.



Tad and Missy have maintained status quo, no earthshaking news. Tad is starting his 21st year at Lowe's Garden. The summer months keep him way too busy. Missy is at Trinity in Radiology Technology. They are going on another cruise in February, to celebrate their second wedding anniversary. I can only hope the cruise lines will have cycled out of their bad luck.

Deanna and her big dog KC are in a new place in the Everett area. She is working for a Seattle grocery chain. Her travel time to Nic's is still long but she manages to see Lainey and Beau on a regular basis. She is their favorite awesome Aunt Nan. We're hoping a North Dakota trip is penciled in for 2011. She hasn't been here since '07.

Bill is a driller for Nabors Drilling. His rig is located near Stanley giving him an hour commute. North Dakota is wild with exploration and drilling making us a very rich state. Bill has a week on/week off schedule so in the off week he is on Daddy duty with Mercedes, who will be 2 on April 1. At present he is dealing on buying his first house in Minot.



In May Karlie graduated from high school. She is still living at home and working in Minot. School is on the horizon but she wants some settling time and is undecided as to what she wants to go into.



Carsten is a senior at Velva High School. He works at the John Deere implement dealership after school and is thinking about the John Deere program at Wahpeton. It is hard to believe he is 18.




Lacy is a seventh grader. She keeps busy with Facebook, texting and oh ya, school. Being thirteen is not easy sledding these days and it looks really hard from this old gal's vantage point. I thought it was tough forty some years ago, now it qualifies as harrowing. NO thanks, I'd rather be old!



Winter has come hard to the plains. We have snow about every 72 hours, or so it seems. Mercedes has been with Grandma and Grandpa for three days. Going outside is a treat, all bundled up like a tic. She fell over like the little kid in "A Christmas Story" and couldn't get up. Dumping her face in the snow, trying to eat the whiteness proved to be chilling. So many trials and tribulations for my precious family, I hope in 2011 cold white snow is their only hurdle.



Be near me Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay;
Close by me forever and love me I pray.
Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care;
and fit us for heaven to live with Thee there.



Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!!
Mary Liz and Ron

Football

We have something unique and special going on in our little corner of the world. I am not sure what I want to put first: the amazing run of the Velva Aggie football team or the amazing coach(es) who has/have made this possible in the high school football arena.

Maybe you, as the reader, can be the decision maker of the who or what should sit in the high seat of this barouche.

Before I proceed, keep in mind I very seldom go to an Aggie football game. I follow, and not too damn closely either, the Vikings, Seahawks and the Bears - because the Vikings are a mainstay for Fargoans (most of us, anyway) and I have family in Seattle and Chicago. If one of the family should relocate to another football town, well, you know what would happen. Carsten played Aggie football for a time and so did my brother Tom (go Bruins!)back in his high school days. Synopsis: I am no football junky, expert, guru or authority. So as the horses head down the road... here are some of the components at play:

1. We have a football team with an almost unbelievable record of wins, excuse me "shutouts." By the way, I've just learned the word this year. A shutout is a score of something to zip. We have total points in eight, maybe nine, games of 297-7 since last year. Last week Des Lacs Burlington scored a touchdown, hiking that little trailer of seven behind the 297.

2. Velva Aggies, today, are ranked No. 1, in the state, as they were last week and the week before, etc.

3. We have a soft spoken, considerate, humble coach. His assistant coaches are former students and players.

4. We have had nine Class A football state titles in the last twelve years - eight of them under Coach Larry Sandy. TBD, this year's title is a few days out in the future.

5. Coach Sandy's brother, Brad, is also a coach of a rival football team - the Harvey Hornets. The Hornets, whose hive is fifty miles down the road, are ranked #2 in the region and #5 in the state - class A division.

Tonight, in Harvey, the Hornets and the Aggies meet up - two brothers, two teams. In this morning's Minot Daily News Coach Larry Sandy said for both teams winning today is secondary to the coaches and players feeling satisfied with the way their teams performed.

WOW!!

How lucky are we to have a coach who lives and breaths the right reasons for high school sports? And then, to ice the cake, a brother doing the same, in the same profession and in the same region.

In this day and age we have had parents, teams, players, coaches, fans, who knows what else go postal over sports. From a lightweight sporting parent's perspective there are some dangerous things going on in the name of school sports and professional sports is even more whacked out.

With so many wins under our belts I don't feel we have an arrogance, and if we do, it certainly isn't condoned from the coaches corner of Sandy, Weidler, and Kvamme. The coaches promote teamwork, skills, and hard work. To be on top is fragile and to be respected. Isn't that what we want to spew forth from sports on a high school level, any level?

And tonight, what a superior example for the teams to see - two brothers facing off against each other. One will win and one won't. When it is all said and done they will still be brothers, still be coaches. Velva and Harvey will still be teams who have to coexist in a community, and if either Sandy has his way, the loser with be happy for the winner.

Life does go on, even with successes, wins, mistakes, heartbreak and failures. The lessons we learn as young people carry us through. Coach Sandy(s) is showing us how sports should work and how to be a grateful winner or a classy loser, whatever the case may be.

I believe good begets good, hard work begets rewards and skills should never be taken for granted, just continually worked on. I see these ideals shinning forth from this football team. Thanks Mr. Sandy for being the leader of these young adults. You have shown them winning isn't everything but with the key ingredients in place - it really can happen, and just maybe, over and over again.

So who gets to sit in the high seat?

And yes, the game is over. Velva 21 - Harvey 8.

Winter Is On Its Way

We have been experiencing near once in a life time fall weather. Today is the 9th of October, it is 2:00 in the afternoon and the temperature is 77 degrees, with the high forecast slated for 79. As of late, we haven't had much of the famous North Dakota wind, and the rain stopped about 10 days ago. We're still mowing on a very regular basis.

I have slowly been hauling, up from a basement closet, my autumn and winter clothes. But none too rapidly have I been dragging the summer wares/wears (?) back down. I'm still wearing them, as late as this morning - sandals to a funeral.

Five years ago we had a fierce winter storm that rendered the town and its people near useless. Ice draped everything, dragging anything in its path ground-ward bound. Trees and evergreens looked like worn soldiers at the end of the great battle.

During that dreadful storm I was still at the nursing home in the employment mode and Ron was running the train. He left in his work car and later was stranded in Minot overnight as the roads were impossible. I had his pickup and was shuttling employees to and from work; four wheel drive was the only thing moving.

October is the time of year when the days grow shorter. Coats and jackets start appearing. We are gearing down for the winter we know will come.

I used to be a huge sweater girl. No, no, no not the curvaceous kind, just a lover of all kinds of sweater. The cozy look, with muted colors and bulky yarns. And yes, expensive Norwegian sweaters are include in that love. Given the times, I don't really buy them at a rapid rate, too blasted hot. Side note: I used to be a sweater girl, now I'm a flasher. Never mind, but the other day I got an email from Victoria's Secret telling of great winter sweaters on sale. So I click on the link and voila!!! This is their idea of a winter sweater??



Anyway... we are in wait for the winter that will come, somehow, someway, someday - until then happy autumn.

Eric Sevareid

“You can’t know who you are as a nation or a people, unless you know where you have been. -Eric Sevareid

In this glorious autumn season, with the brilliancy of yellow and gold everywhere, a unique, first ever of its kind, symposium was held in Bismarck, ND to reflect and to further understand the life of Eric Sevareid, Velva’s own larger than life hometown boy who "did good."

Together the North Dakota Humanities Council and The Dakota Institute created this amazing symposium, Not So Wild a Dream: The Legacy of Eric Sevareid. The purpose was to explore the life of a man whose deep thought and love of the written word were what he was all about. It was extraordinary for me and those who partook in the four day event, to explore his life and of course, all the history so deeply entwined with his era.

Eric was born in 1912 and lived out the first twelve years of his life near the little brown river that curved around the edge of our town, to borrow the opening line from Sevareid’s 1946 book, “Not So Wild a Dream." After his father’s Velva bank failed they moved on to Minot for a year and then to Minnesota. Sevareid attributed his childhood in Velva, and later Minnesota, as the significant places that shaped him into the man he became.

As a young adult just out of Minneapolis Central High School, Sevareid and friend Walter Port, a few years older than he, canoed 2,250 miles from Minneapolis to Hudson Bay. He wrote of his tales in a book entitled, Canoeing With the Cree. The canoe trip has been accomplished by others, but none tagging the journey an easy “ride.” Two young Mankato students presented their slide show of their trip to recreate for the audience a small taste of what Sevareid did so many years ago.

Eric went on to Europe in 1937 and became a war correspondent with the now famous Murrow's boys: Edward R. Murrow, William Shirer, Charles Collingwood, Howard K. Smith, to name a few. Broadcasting live from London, Paris, Italy and other European theaters had never been done before. Its authenticity captivated America. Sevareid wanted the listener to feel, hear, taste, what the soldiers were experiencing. But sadly he came to understand that, “only the soldier lives the war.” He knew he had options, the soldier didn’t.

For a man so tied to the love of writing, only two books were written by Sevareid: his canoe trip and Not So Wild a Dream. The latter is a stunning book of his life up to 1944, after World War II. I have only read parts of it and plan to settle into the rest of it as life around here slows down for our long Dakota winters. What I have read is enthralling for his use of prose, thought and the ability to make me think. No fast read; it would disgrace what this contemplative author had put together.

The daily symposium speakers took to the stage at the Sydney J. Lee Auditorium on the campus of Bismarck State College. Evening events with Bob Schieffer, Bob Edwards, Nick Clooney and Dan Rather (yes, Dan Rather!) were held at the stately Belle Mehus Auditorium in downtown Bismarck.

The venerable broadcasters Rather, Schieffer and Marvin Kalb (Kalb had to be interviewed via Skype or some such technology, as he was unable to come to Bismarck) gave wonderful accounts of their years with Sevareid, as well as just great stories of the days before 24/7 news casting and Lindsey Lohan headlines. It was nostalgic for me. I am also old enough to remember Sevareid and his two minute commentaries on the CBS nightly news, even though the Snyder household was staunch NBC due to my father’s earlier years at WDAY.

Let me share with you some of the pictures I was able to take of this amazing event.


The visible cogs Clay Jenkinson, moderator and Director of The Dakota Institute and Brenna Daugherty, Executive Director of the Humanities Council. But there were plenty of behind the scenes people hard at work. The event was web cast for computers. I tuned in on Friday from the comforts of my recliner.


This is Bob Edwards, whom I listen to on Sunday morning, PBS. I love his slow voice on the radio but when I saw him in person he reminded me of the kids' pediatrician, the late Dr. Dormont.


The interview stage at the Belle.



Bob Schieffer, who this past Sunday on Face the Nation, mentioned his visit to North Dakota and comments about Eric Sevareid. I really enjoyed him. He told a fabulous story of his involvement as a rookie journalist in Dallas the day President Kennedy was shot; it was like a Ripley's Believe It or Not Tale, or a Paul Harvey: The Rest of the Story.



Suzanne St. Pierre, the widow of Eric Sevareid and my symposium partner, Suzy Lee. Suzanne was a producer at CBS 60 Minutes when they met and became his third wife, despite a 23 years age difference. She was a very gracious lady and commented one of her favorites of the three days was talking with the people of Velva and North Dakota. I wish we could have heard her "Eric" story as told at a noon luncheon on Saturday. We were enroute to Bismarck from Velva (football and senior night the evening before).


Nick Clooney, father of George and brother of Rosemary Clooney. He was the interviewer for the night of Dan Rather. He was most enjoyable to listen to.



A picture of Dan Rather and Eric Sevareid in, what I believe, is Vietnam.



Dan Rather. What an icon in television broadcasting!! I have always been a fan of his. He choked up at least five times during his interview, which made him even more human to me and, I think, everyone else.



And Sunday was the grand finale. A trip to Velva to see the boyhood home of Eric Sevareid. A motor coach bus left with about 40 people and a convoy behind drove the 100 or so miles to our little hamlet by the brown river.



Iris Swedlund, our school and public librarian, was the queen pin of this final leg of the symposium. She pulled her end of the deal together with such finesse; it was a delight, for me, to be a part of the host entourage.

Velva was able to sweeten the deal with area businesses contributing to the symposium. Remarkably, outside of the bus ride and daily lunches, it was free to the public. And the bus and lunches were hardly expensive arrangements.


Michael Sevareid

Eric Sevareid had three children, a set of twins Michael and Peter with his first wife, and Christina his second wife. Michael attended the four day event and concluded in Velva. He had never seen his father's childhood home. He was given a special tour by its current owner. Michael was very cordial and seemed to enjoy the symposium.






Michael autographed books that were for sale. I did buy my own copy of "Not So Wild of Dream." During this autographing moment, one can only imagine what I was telling him. Something with visual dramatics involved I guess.



The childhood home of Eric. I was able to go in the house a number of years ago, under different ownership. It was full of character, and my mind surely wandered to another time, when Velva and Eric were young. The house was also red at that time.



Prior to the symposium Suzanne St. Pierre had send a box of over 200 photographs of Eric. The Humanities Council had them scanned and enlarged for display. As attendees we were able to see them throughout the auditorium. Later on Sunday, three large photographs were given to the library, which has an extensive Sevareid collection, under the curatorship of Iris.


Eric is in the middle and Bill Francis (Journal editor)on the right. No one was able to discern who the guy on the left is/was. Eric kept up his friendship with Bill, and he would occasionally call his old girlfriend, Helen Bloomquist Kramer, a life long Velva resident.

Sevareid's last CBS broadcast was November 30, 1977 as CBS had a mandatory retirement age of 65. He died in 1992 of stomach cancer. He was 79.

To conclude, a noon meal of the potluck variety was served to the visitors. During this time it was announced that when the Sevareid documentary is completed in 2012, the premier showing will happen in Velva.

In writing about Eric Sevareid, after listening to the wonderful symposium, I feel so inept at writing about this signal event. I guess I wouldn't be following one the hallmark rules of Eric Sevareid journalism:

"Never underestimate the intellegence of your audience or overestimate their information."



As feeble as my account is I just had to share the story and photographs. And remember one of my rules of journalism: "Whose blog is it anyway??"

Looking Down

I hate to fly, but never tire of looking out the window. I am forever trying to piece something to a bigger picture. As a child when I would fly with my Dad I liked to spot swimming pools. Fargo had its share of them, despite the long white winters. Now I love Google Earth from the comforts of my recliner: flying without fear.

On this last junket to DL we crossed two hundred miles of North Dakota. My trusty Nikon, with the different lens choices, granted me some photos of our great state.

Some of my thoughts were about water, not in swimming pool form, but water - God given water, just plain sitting due to the lay of the land. Plenty of potholes this year, more God given moisture. We could see Devils Lake to the north, it glistened for miles and miles and more miles. It is bursting at the seams. No, it has burst at the seams and nobody wants to stake a claim on its drainage: Eco systems in jeopardy, farm land in jeopardy, on and on. Having lived downstream of Minot for six years during the tumultuous flooding of the 70's, I know how touchy water issues can be, not only to keep our farm afloat (no pun intended) but how to manage water to keep most all happy and prosperous. Nobody is ever on the same page.

As we flew over Harvey I saw the McClusky canal, dry as a bone. Another water project with good intent. I am not up on the current politics and why it flows near Turtle Lake/Audubon outlet but empty by Harvey. Wait until we don't have any!! It made me wonder which is more virulent in history: water or religion?

Before long we were between Carrington and New Rockford. My thoughts went to North Dakota State University. NDSU was a land grant college started in 1890, it was to be a "People's College" with more emphasis on Agriculture, Science and Engineering. In its early days it was North Dakota Agricultural College. Growing up I recall my father (an NDSU alumni and Achievement Award winner in 1977) telling my mother, "I'm going to run out to the AC." In 1960 it became North Dakota State University.

The following pictures are of the Experiment Station at Carrington which is run by NDSU. Experiment stations are outreach farms and ranches around North Dakota (nine to be exact) which test and trial varieties of grains, vegetables, trees, grasses and legumes, etc. If it involves agriculture and ranching in North Dakota, NDSU has data from research. That is what made it a People's College, and still is.




A patchwork of research.

This next one is just west of Fargo, a mile or two from the University, it must be a mini plot for SU. Carrington has this one beat hands down for design, curb appeal.



North Dakota is now home to many, MANY turbines for wind energy. Renewable energy, sometimes it seems like it would be a never ending energy; wind is a part of North Dakota no matter how you look at it. Question: do the wind towers contribute to more wind???







Many years ago I read the book "The Checkered Years" by Mary Dodge Woodward. It is her diary of living in Dakota Territory outside of Fargo, during the early bonanza farming days in the later part of the 19th century. This following picture made me remember the book. Mary Dodge, while living in their shanty on the prairie, recounts of seeing only three lights, two in Fargo and one in Moorhead on bitter cold winter nights. Soon the people came and homesteads sprung up on almost every corner. The flat Red River Valley is not home to the prairie pothole as in central and western North Dakota.



The lush fertile soil of the Red River Valley, remnants of glacial Lake Agassiz, made for many a prosperous farm. There were many to look down on and it didn't take too much imagination to realize the land had been good to them, generation after generation. Good land and good farming practices made it possible for these farms to grow and to stay within families. This one looks like it supported more than one family.



It was a good fly day and made me think about how much I love North Dakota, even if it was from the right seat of the Cessna.

Fifty Years and the Meter is Running

In 1960, back when life was pretty simple or at least I thought it was, I started the first grade at Clara Barton Elementary school in Fargo ND. My teacher was Mrs. McLaren, a petite, gentle matron who commandeered her young students with a kind, firm hand. Up against Miss Bettschen, the other first grade teacher, I thought she was an angel. I was afraid of Miss Bettschen when we would file off to her room for music. I liked Mrs McLaren.

Back in those glorious days, school didn't convene until AFTER Labor Day, August was dedicated to summer, not classroom business for heaven's sake. After all, Fargo was a live-at-lake-in-the-summer town. School couldn't possibly start until the Tuesday after the first Monday in September. Otherwise who would be there?

And so it was, after the world returned to the city, I started the first grade and embarked upon a friendship, a friendship that would take me through the years of my life - my life so far that is. A best friend forever, as my girls say now, a BFF or a bestie! That would be Susan.



The year 2010 heralds the 50th year of our friendship; well deserving of a celebratory convocation. We did meet in Las Vegas in January to see Bette Midler, but didn't have our golden ducks in a row to lay claim to this fete. It was only after squawking to Ron about some unremarkable topic that I said, "Ya know, Susan and I have been friends for about fifty years." did I get to ciphering. Gosh, this is fifty years, at least after Labor Day.

My earliest memory of Susan was when she came over to my house to teach me how to spell Elizabeth, her first name and my middle. She went by Elizabeth in school so she had to learn how to spell it before I did. I went by Mary or Mary Liz. It was high time I learned to spell that long name. Susan thought my last name was Elizabeth so she would call our house and say, "Hello, Mrs. Elizabeth may I please to speak to Mary?" From then on the the meter was running.

I really wanted to get together before this year was over, go the extra mile signaling this milestone. Phoenix wasn't in my foreseeable future, at least not until after Christmas, so I had to act fast. And guess what?? Susan just happened to be at the lake for the waning days of summer and to close up the cottage before she went back to Phoenix to cook, bake and broil.

Plan A initiated. It worked out to the letter.



Ron and I flew down to the lake for lunch and a little Susan time. From Velva, Lake Melissa is a good 4.5 hour drive, given the season of construction and Labor Day traffic, air travel just seemed the way to go (once again ML bit the little plane bullet). The weather cooperated and we were home before dark. It was a nice day for the memory book.

We took in the Flea Market as we both love the old and interesting. I bought a LAKEGIRL sweatshirt (a had to have!!) and she bought some Halloween decor (her friend Lynn told her NO MORE boiled wool knitted candy corn for Halloween!! It was time for her to rethink her ornamental strategy). Rather reserved purchases considering there was a tremendous boatload of stuff. One end table did catch my eye but I knew I couldn't smuggle it in the back seat of the plane without a detailed answer. "What the hell are you going to do with that? Jeez, don't you have enough junk?" It wasn't worth the drama.



Lunch was at the Shoreham Hotel. Note: the poor centering of this photo is only to include the established 1910 portion of another Hotel Shoreham sign. The Hotel is a funky place and known to really rock, especially on Thursday nights when Karaoke cranks up the crowd. Gosh, 1910 makes the Hotel 100 years old. Good thing I had two beers with my lunch, one for Susan and me, and one for the Hotel. If someone in the joint would have had a birthday I'd have probably had three!

Shoreham is a little hamlet located between Lake Melissa and Lake Sallie. The Hotel, The Pegary (LAKEGIRL fame) and Shoreham Chapel comprise this widening of the road. When I would stay with Susan as a kid there was also store where we would go to buy comic books and candy. You could buy candy cigarettes there too, which weren't available in clean cut ND.

My Dad remembered going to Shoreham and the Hotel when he was a kid and teenager, as the Snyder cottage was on Detroit, just down the road a piece. At one time there were ferry rides that boarded at the Hotel located on the channel between the two lakes. Old photos show women draped in long white dresses and tabletop sized hats to make the cruise. Google gave me no information as to where the hostelry factor comes in. My guess, at one time there must have been little cabins to stay in. Had I reread the walls of the hotel I probably could have answered those questions, as many news clippings and photos decorate the interior.

We then made a sojourn to the cottage. Susan's brother Tim and her sister Judy joined us in the merriment. Oh yes, and Lucky, Susan's dog. We reminisced, laughed and caught up on family and people. My brother Tom went to school with Tim and Judy was the trailer, three year behind. We all knew the same names, places and events, each with our own slant.




It was a short visit but a sweet visit. I always love time with Susan and her family. Ron did very well, he trailed along like he was supposed to do. He knew what this visit meant to me so he remained in check. Thanks sweetheart, you are the greatest!!

So fifty years have come and gone. Changes, changes and more changes. Miss Bettschen and Mrs. McLaren are long gone, so is Mrs. Elizabeth. Susan, you and I will probably face twice as many changes in the next fifty as we did in the first. What took five years then now takes five months. I couldn't ask for a better friend to grow old with. All the laughing we do when we are together will keep us young. Remember NO BOWING OUT EARLY; I bought at the fiftieth, you have to get the check at the hundredth. And we'll then have three beers!

Sealed with the Cross of Christ Forever

On August 22nd, Master Carter Allen was baptized at Norway Lutheran Church on one of the hottest days of summer. No matter, he was sealed with the Cross of Christ forever, one of my most favorite, if not my favorite, excerpts from the Lutheran Book of Worship (green book). It is powerful and satisfying for me and for my grandson.


I was unable to get the exact shot of the marking of the cross on his forehead, so the water will have to do. Please remember this shot was secured with a big lens and cropping on my computer. I would hate for anyone to think that Grandma had her camera, hovering like a big fly, inches away from this special moment,

Stepping back a few moments, the late afternoon family service was held at the venerable Norway Lutheran Church, now closed publicly but opens its doors for special services, weddings, funerals and new beginnings - a baptism. The church sit atop the Mouse River Valley where it has since 1907. Among the church's charter members where Erik Espeseth and Martin Bredahl, the great great great grandparents of young Carter. Did they ever wonder when they came to this valley in 1883, after leaving Norway, if their family would still claim this area as home?





Anyone who has ever sat in the ornate oak pews of this beloved church knows the sound of the church bell. It would peal before Sunday services, on very special occasions and on Christmas Eve. Sadly as well, there is another bell on the other side, the funeral bell.



Stanley Markusen, who is godparent to Erik - Carter's dad, is instructing Collin (Carter's older brother) how to ring the bell. It is not a random act, protocol is involved, and so is procedure. I am sure Stan instructed Erik, Tad and Bill as well. Their father, Myles, was also a veteran of the bell. He would ring it on Christmas Eve at 6:00 pm usually with an entourage of kids. Grandma's house was just down the road. Those of us left behind would go outside with a waft of lutefisk trailing behind us and listen as the clear bell ring echoed down the valley.


Nostalgia aside, Carter wore the baptismal gown worn by his grandfather Myles and great grandfather Myron. My own sons did not wear it, why I don't remember. Probably because is was a girl thing. Dresses? I am past that now. I did have Carsten's picture wearing it when he was 14 months old. Later having it framed with Myles and Myron wearing the same gown.





If Carter could talk this picture looks like he would say, "Oh no, please, not a slip, and a dress!! This gets out, I'm ruined."






Carter looks just like his Dad when he was little.



Pastor Mary Miska welcoming Carter into the church of God. A very good place to be!


Erik, Nicki, Carter,and Collin, Pastor Miska, Sara and Dylan Anderson - Carter's godparents. I am godmother to Sara, and she is Erik's cousin. Sara wore the same baptismal gown at this very church thirty years before. Dylan is Nicki's stepbrother. The infamous North Dakota relative web.


On a side note: All of my boys are very mechanical and are ever so enthralled with how things work. In this picture Carter is watching the ceiling fans. He would often gaze up and look with consternation as they whirled away.


God bless you Carter Allen. You have a long life ahead of you but you will walk tall and wisely with Christ at your side. Love, Grandma.