Election Day, 2016

Let's back up to election day, 2016.

This moment is made up of billions of choices made by billions of people, all choosing what seemed the best choice at the time. No matter how this election turns out, I pledge to continue to make choices with the goal of creating the best future. I will choose dialogue. I will choose respect. I hope all of you will too. It is time collaborate and make our country the best it can be, for everyone. Wishing you all the best as election results come in--whoever you voted for! 

Me: Kids, do you want to come with me to vote? This is a big election, a tight election, and a historic election. It is the first we've had a woman candidate for president from a major party. 

Charlotte: Wait, what? Why? There have been so many elections. That is crazy. (Age 7)

The above are two posts I made on social media the day of the election.

The kids tagged along with me to our local polling place, the middle school gym.  While I filled out my ballot, they climbed the bleachers and read Duck For President by Doreen Cronin.

And well, we all know what happened.  The election night party we attended wrapped up early--no one there was in the mood for celebrating.  Earlier in the day I had gone door knocking for the Hillary Clinton campaign with the girls (Solomon was at school).  We only knocked on the doors of democrats, encouraging them to get to the polls.  Even then, I wondered it it was too little too late.  In truth, I had secretly thought Clinton was doomed since Comey had reopened the investigation into her emails in October.  But I would much rather have not been right.

In the weeks that followed I had some hard and delicate conversations with republican friends and relatives.  More often than not though, I didn't have the stomach or the courage for it.

The Inauguration came and went.  I participated in the Women's March in January, along with many, many friends.  I discovered more that I knew along the way.  My sister participated in New York, another friend marched in Washington DC.  Another friend knit many, many pink pussy hats.  One of my cousins unfreinded me on social media due to my participation in the march.

I was invited to a private conservative group on Facebook, and a private feminist group on Facebook.
My life is such that it might be hard to know where I land--I had a very liberal upbringing and remain so. But I am a stay at home mom. I have four kids. I homeschool. I go to church most Sundays.

But in the last few years--the last 10-15, in retrospect--I have felt the political ground shifting beneath my feet.  The things I held most dear about the Democratic party are no longer core values.  At the same time, the Republican platform is no alternative for me.  I value judging people individually based on their actions and accomplishments, over their membership in any particular group.  I value freedom of speech, even if that might offend someone else, even if it might offend me.  I value respectful dialog, even (and especially) with your adversaries.  

The above words were written in the early days of the Trump administration. Before the pandemic. Before the lockdowns, which we were assured would be over in a matter of weeks. Before our president encouraged hate crimes agains Asians by calling covid-19 'the China virus.' Before he encouraged people to take horse medication and even actual poison to protect themselves, but was luke warm on the vaccines once they became available. Before a Minneapolis police officer murdered George Floyd, before the demonstrations and protests, before immigrants were forcefully separated from their young children at the border, before our president was banned from Facebook and Twitter for spreading misinformation. Before the US pulled out of critical climate accords, before escalations with North Korea and the trade war with China, before Ruth Bader Ginsberg died and the US supreme court became decidedly conservative, before the January 6th insurrection where right wing militants stormed the capitol to try to stop a democrat from becoming the next president. Before Trump was impeached. Twice. I almost forgot that part. 

SO much of what we thought was normal changed SO fast. 

I also started this post before I lost interest in posting political views anywhere on the internet (or perhaps it is the moral courage which I've lost). These days I hesitate to post even small, inconsequential entertaining details about my daily life. What does it matter? Am I just adding to the endless daily distraction of social media? Will we someday live in an authoritarian Big Brother-like state that will make life and death decisions based on what cute thing my kid said or what I had for breakfast? Will it keep me from getting a job if I voice an opinion now and then? Loose me friends? On a practical level, political posts--really any slightly controversial post--has served to derail otherwise good days without actually accomplishing anything.  Consensus is rarely, if ever, reached in a shouting match with hundreds of onlookers. Platforms like twitter and facebook are a digital amplification of this dynamic. 

Do those quick changes I spoke of above really mean my reaction should be the opposite? This is not the time to quiet down. This is not the time to take our democracy for granted. It is imperfect, yes, and it will always be imperfect, but we can and should try to improve it. I guess that is another take on the 'in order to make a more perfect union' statement in the preamble to the US Constitution.  I can't get behind every single plank of any party's platform (and if you can, consider whether or not you've truly thought through these issues for yourself), but there's still a lot of work I can wholeheartedly embrace, starting with voting rights. Time to do some real work. 

Santa Lucia Day 2019

It has been a full decade since we started this tradition!

Nova was five the first time around. She had a 10 month old baby sister. After having been the youngest for almost five years, I thought this new middle child could use some attention, a secret project for the two of us. I had always liked American Girl’s Kirsten books and had been charmed by the winter story including Santa Lucia Day. And we are Scandinavian, though I am not sure if that is really here nor there. Norway started celebrating Santa Lucia day in a serious way only after my ancestors left for America, so this was not handed down. Anyway, it seemed like the right thing to choose. I got the book, Kirsten’s Surprise, from the library, and suggested to Nova  we try our own Santa Lucia day after reading it. I asked my mom if she could make the gown, which was a great help in keeping everything a secret.  Nova and I took a surreptitious trip to Penzy’s to get saffron. As we got closer to mid December, I snuck greens, red berries (fake so nothing could poison our toddling 10 month old), and battery operated candles up to the nursery, where we quietly made a wreath while baby Charlotte was asleep.  The morning of, all there was left to do was make the saffron buns. We pulled it off reasonably close to dawn. Charles and Solomon were thoroughly surprised!


And so we did it again the next year. Of course Charlotte wanted to do it too. While I knew that technically the Santa Lucia roll was reserved for the oldest daughter, I didn’t want her to feel left out, and Nova enjoyed sharing the secret preparations with her little sister.  Solomon showed no interest in being a star boy (the boys' roll). He seemed content with being the recipient of surprises baked goods and hot chocolate. Several years later Ariadne joined in.

Over the years we have had more and less picturesque iterations of this holiday. Every other year we have cardamom coffee cake, as we are not all fans of saffron. Cardamom is certainly a spice Norwegians seem fond of, but coffee cake is definitely not traditional. (Kids, if you are ever looking for the cardamom cake recipe, I used the one in the Moosewood Cookbook, subbing in almond flour for wheat.)




This year we attempted saffron buns not once but three times!  The recipe we've used since the beginning is this one, from Simply Recipes. The first time Nova forgot the milk, sour cream and butter.  We declared it a bust and put off celebrating.  Charlotte and Ariadne, influenced by The Great British Baking Show, decided plait the dairy-less dough and bake it anyway.  Surprise! They were delicious!!  We also made them for Christmas, but I let them rise a little long.



When we did them for Santa Lucia day, Nova made the dough the night before, but Solomon stirred the yeast prematurely, not realizing it would stop the bread from rising.  At this point, had already put Santa Lucia day off too long.  We had blown through actual Santa Lucia day, December 13th, the winter solstice December 21st, and had reached the very last day of the year.   So I got Pillsbury pop 'n fresh cinnamon rolls.  We shaped them like saffron buns and went on with our morning.  In retrospect, the ones without the dairy were the best.  We might try that on purpose next time.



Somewhere along the line I took over making the gowns (really night gowns)  from my mom. I don't make them every year, once every other or even every third year suffices.  I have distinct memories of making them in triplicate is sizes 12, 6, and 3.  According to the blog that was 2014.


This year was another year for sewing in triplicate.  The white stretch cotton I prefer for these nightgowns is getting harder to find, which ultimately lead to a late night special order from an independent fabric store on Black Friday. We are talking the whole nine yards! (Actually I think it was 9 1/2). Apparently I use Black Friday deals to buy fabric while sitting on my couch, and nothing else. In the end this year’s nightgowns were made of bamboo jerseys knit. It is lovely to touch, but a little tricky to work with.


Hart’s, the independent fabric store, happened to be just ‘over the hill’ in Santa Cruz. I spent a nice morning there by myself picking out trim a few weeks later. One of their very helpful staff and I were chatting and I sheepishly admitted I was making gowns for a very Americanized version of Santa Lucia. She grew up in Northern Europe and immediately began humming a pretty little tune. Somehow it had escaped me that there was a song attached to this holiday!

Sewing this year's Santa Lucia night gowns upped my skills considerably. Since the girls size 12 was so billowy on 11 year old Nova, I held out hope that the girls 14 might fit her now that she is firmly on adult sizes. I tissue fit the pattern to check the sizing. Tissue fitting involves drawing the seam allowances onto the pattern, then pinning the pieces as if they were sewn so it can be tried on. I was tempted to skip this step but am really glad I didn’t. The girls 14 did NOT fit  Nova. But it did fit Charlotte! An unexpected development.  We looked at some adult patterns, but in the end Nova wanted to stick with good old Simplicity 1569. Our go-to has been to put the long sleeves from the pajamas on the nightgown.  Once I even managed to make robes, in which case we mixed the pockets from one option with the trim from another--one of the advantages of sewing is unlimited adaptation.  I am afraid they might be phasing this pattern out as it is only available via Simplicity’s website now. I guess I will have to stock up.  This year we made a size 10, girl's 14 and woman's 14.

I decided to make Charlotte’s first to avoid mixing up sizes.





Then it was time to grade up the pattern to an adult size for Nova.  I used this tutorial from Sew To Fit by AD Lynn. My tools were a roll of parchment paper (usually used for baking), a large ruler with a French curve on the end, some improvised paper weights, and a sharp pencil. I also checked the sized up version against Nova’s measurements.  I had to put ALL the leaves in the dining room table for a floor length nightgown of this size.  I also had to call my mom to be reminded of the trick of getting a long piece of fabric to lie flat when folded--something to do with lining up the selvage edges and nicking the fabric and then folding those nicks to match.  I will have to call her again to get it straight.













I tissue fit the graded pattern and this time it fit! I cut out Nova and Ariadne's patterns and sewed them at the same time.  I find it faster, as long as I don't mix up the pieces between the different sizes.  And I also don't have to worry about one daughter's getting left undone.



Tape was helpful in making the elastic loop stay close together while sewing the back closure.

Everyone found them comfortable, and was reluctant to change out of the unfinished nightgowns after trying them on for fit.

I finally got real crowns from Ingabretson’s in Minneapolis, probably around the time I made those size 12, 6 and 3 nightgowns. But they are in a box that has proven impossible to find—a casualty of the move to California.







This year we used a thicker wire for the base of the wreath/crown and to attach the electric candles, and florist's wire to attach the greenery. Charlotte nixed the pre-made wreath--too much greenery.  




I can't remember what they were laughing about--something must have been very funny.  It may have been their dad.  He was trying to get Nova to cheer up and participate in the photo.  At nearly 16, she both loves these family traditions and is, occasionally, a little embarrassed by them. She had a friend coming over soon, and she didn't want to be caught in costume!

Ultimately everyone was laughing, and we managed to get a picture better than the one from that morning, which was less than ideal due to wet hair.  

An Unexpected Opportunity

Late last year (actually 2017) my husband told me he was contacted by one of those big tech companies. In Silicon Valley. One of those.  He told me likely nothing would come of it, but that he wanted to see how far he could get. He said even if he got it, he wouldn't take the job.

Famous last words.



I should have known better, I've heard this before and I finally understand that this is his way of not getting his hopes up too high.  It is what he said about his last job (which he loved, and which also involved a ton of travel).  It is what he said about his favorite high school teaching job where he taught math and science to the kids at a real live version of Fame! (if anyone remembers Fame!--otherwise just picture a performing arts school full of aspiring actors, dancers, and musicians).

To be clear, all of these professional decisions are ones we talked over together at length and decided on together.  This last time we even discussed it with the kids.

After getting through the many screenings, phone interviews, etc, it was time to go in person.  We went together, so we could both check out the area. He practiced whiteboard coding on the mirror in the hotel (you can use dry erase markers on mirrors!).  On a Saturday, I walked around the local high school.

While I had been to California before, I'd never been there in the winter, and I'd never been to San Fransisco.  The moment we stepped off the plane, the air itself was different; pleasantly humid, slightly cool with a faint floral scent, it was clear we were far from home.   The spring-like weather contrasted strangely with the winter darkness.

As luck would have it, my sister and her boyfriend had moved to The San Fransisco Bay Area the previous summer.  She diligently drove me around different Bay Area cities and neighborhoods, looking for a place to live.  One of our more memorable stops was in Niles, with the name written into the mountainside above the small town.  Mixed in with antique shops was a museum on the start of the film industry, featuring silent film stars like Charlie Chaplin.

While Charles was busy with a full day of interviews, she and I took an impromptu trip to Muir Woods. They switched to a reservation system in 2018, so these days you need to plan ahead a little more.  Nearly every random stranger I met (including the guy sitting next to me on the plane) mentioned Muir Woods as good place to visit.  It did not disappoint.  The trees were awe inspiring giants.

I bought a keychain like a tourist.  A small wood box with an inlaid lid that slide into place like I'd had as a child.  But instead of being empty, the interior held a compass.  

At the hotel I surprised Californians by swimming in the outdoor pool in the winter. In my defense, it was heated.  

My sister and her boyfriend let us tag along to a holiday cocktail party with them.  We met many interesting, friendly people.  Everyone lamented the state of real estate in the Bay Area.  Uncertain of the outcome of the trip, we were both a little shy about mentioning the possible job opportunity and didn't let on that we too may soon have to contend with that same real estate market.  

We finished up the trip with a drive to Half Moon Bay.  Arcing highways made my midwestern heart a little nervous, but the views were gorgeous. An unexpected lake (which I later learned was a reservoir) and mountains made for an interesting drive, even before we reached the ocean.  We found a seaside restaurant and ate lobster watching the sun go down on the Pacific.  

Leaving California, we both figured there was a 50/50 chance he would get an offer.  I don't know what the real odds were.  It is one of those things you can hypothesize about all you want, but in the end, you get the job or you don't.  And he got it.  There was a little more back and forth about the details.  Because of the holidays, we got Christmas break to mull things over.  But on New Years, we made the call and committed to an adventure.   

Christmas 2015--Looking Back & Christmas on the Farm

  

We have five Christmases a year.  And no one is divorced.  Christmas with my dad's side of the family, Christmas with my mom's side of the family, Christmas morning with just the six of us, Christmas with my mom, dad and sister, and Christmas with the Midwinters--immediately followed by Grandpa Barry's birthday.  At first, this was a lot to juggle. But we said to ourselves, how long will these extended family Christmases continue? In some years it is the only time a particular side of the family gets together. As it turns out, those extended family Christmases have continued 15 years and counting--and we wouldn't have it any other way.  

Trimming the tree and Grandma and Grandpa's house

After year three or four, we hit a rhythm.  Extended family Christmases usually fall early or late in December.  Stockings and gifts appear the morning of Christmas Eve at our house. Our parents swap Christmas Eve and Christmas Day back and forth.  At least a part of the 26th is spent with the Midwinters for Grandpa's birthday.  There are usually at least one or two overnights in there--not because we live far away, but because it is more fun.

And trimming our own tree

 In many ways, my extended family is our close family.  Not until 2017 did my kids get a first cousin, so all they know about playing with cousins comes from my first cousins and their kids (my youngest cousins are only two years older than Solomon).  Both aunts have lived out of state for the vast majority of the kids' childhoods, and the extended family on the Midwinter side is spread all over North America. For a good long stretch they were in Manitoba, Oklahoma, California, British Columbia, Illinois, The Northwest Territories, and Minnesota.   We see them when we can, but it is not every Christmas.

   

In 2015, we had Christmas on the farm.  This only happens once every three years or so, so there is always excitement about going to see all the animals.  Cousin Katrina gave us a tour.



First we saw the dairy cows, classic black and white holsteins.  From there we saw the many, many birds.  It was a cold day, so they were all inside, running around together.  I believe there were geese, chickens, ducks and quail.  Katrina showed the eggs of each--all different.  There was also a huge difference between dirty and clean.



Then we walked over to see the brown jersey calves.  They were quit cute. Along the way Ariadne got to sit on a hay bale, and the older girls 'skated' on large stretch of ice.  I remember one of my first skating experiences happened on the same farm on a similar patch, but with actual ice skates.




Back inside we talked, played games and I would venture to guess we sang some carols.  My cousins who grew up at the farm are good singers and piano players.  We had our annual ornament exchange, which now has both a child and an adult category.  Though I can't remeber exactly what we ate four years removed, I do know Christmas at the farm almost always includes little heart shaped waffles with lingonberry jam and whipped cream, and lots of christmas cookies of all varieties.  The last decade or so had included a revival of traditional Scandinavian recipes such as Swedish and Norweigan meatballs, lutafisk (always served with many other dishes, as not everyone likes it), several soups, and the fish chowder my Grandma always made on New Years Eve.

Back at my parents' house, Nova taught Aunt Brynn a song on the guitar, we got in a good game of Settlers and Granne showed Ariadne her finished quilt club quilt (a group of roughly 8 quilters met once a month and took turns adding to each other's quilts).

Cooper and his dad

This was just two of our Christmas celebrations in 2015.  I wish I had recorded more details, but the whirlwind of celebration took over documentation fell by the wayside.  We had a fine time with the Midwinters as well.  It was one of Marianne and Sylvain's 'on' years for Christmas (they alternate between here with us and in France with Sylvain's family).  My parents hosted for the other side of extended family in 2015.  Ariadne enjoyed seeing her second cousins Brooks and Cooper, who are just a couple years younger than her. Now that they are out of the baby stage, they seem so much closer in age.

A gift of fine French cheeses from Sylvain's parents

On the last day of 2015 my mom and I went on a tour of the St Paul Cathedral.  It was a jubilee year, which is why the middle doors are decorated.  They are not even open in a non-jubilee year (something I never knew before).  Our tour guide was quite good, explaining how the Cathedral functioned as a storybook would, telling the important stories in the Bible.

I just have these two shots from the outside, because my camera died.  There was much more to see inside, including a life size reproduction of Michelangelo's sculpture Pieta.