No wonder

I find the Washington Post's raw analysis of the median net worth of our House of Representatives compared to the common man's interesting. To view them, click here.

Tis the season

I rushed out of synagogue to attend my son's "holiday" concert yesterday. "I'm going to go listen to my son sing "We Are Santa's Elves," I apologized to a congregant who had just arrived. "That's OK," he said. "In New York, we used to joke that it was the Jews who knew all the words and kept all of the Christmas carols in tune."

I arrived early, securing a seat in the fifth row. I saw on the program that my son's class was third in line to sing and planned an early exit. Then I remembered that one of my fourth-grade Hebrew school students had asked if I was going to the concert. Her class came on right after my son's. "No problem," I thought, just a bit more time.

The third-graders were second in line to sing. I picked out a boy from my son's bus stop. Then I spotted another of my religious school students in the group. I ran through a mental checklist of my students, realizing I should probably stay to hear the kindergarteners too, the next to the last group.

I sat bemused by the irony of being a Jewish school principal proudly listening to her Jewish students sing Christmas songs.

Finally the fifth graders! Knowing my only fifth graders go to schools in Two Harbors and western Duluth, I confidentally stood up to make my "early" exit. Wouldn't you know it. They were the group singing the only Hanukkah song.

Today I am thankful for...

• Two pumpkin pies baking in the oven.


• My son calling me and my husband downstairs to see our favorite balloons in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.


• Frozen grapes harvested from our backyard that we ate at breakfast this morning.


• My son's continued enjoyment of his birthday Legos.


• My husband's completion of his new book I now must edit.


• My dear friend and layoff buddy getting a fulltime job with benefits.


• My in-laws cooking the Thanksgiving dinner.

The soup ladle

A dear friend of ours, died recently.

My husband and I met Shirley in the "winter" of her life, although we have known her many years now. She was 90.

A co-worker was helping her sons clean out her home. He returned with several professional stainless steel soup ladles that were going to be thrown out. Shirley and her husband had run a catering service years ago. He asked me if I would like one of the ladles.

I accepted it, although I secretly had been wishing that somehow they would magically find the plastic lid to my small stainless steel RevereWare bowl that had gotten lost in her kitchen during a book club potluck a few years back.

"I've already got a soup ladle," I rued, still missing the lid to the bowl I had used to transport food everywhere.

But sure enough, as I dished up the minestrone I made for my son's birthday party dinner last night, I needed a second ladle. And I thought of our friend Shirley.

I know I will be missing her often.

Daddy's amazing bargain (or good fortune)

My son's birthday was Friday. He turned 7.

Two weeks ago, my husband won -- with just one $2 raffle ticket -- the "Lego Mania" basketful of Lego kits at Congdon Park Foundation's annual auction.

We already had some smaller gifts bought, but hadn't yet decided on what Sam's "big" present would be. The basket completed our shopping.

When we presented his big gift at his birthday party last night, my son's eyes grew wide in amazement. His Dad had been telling him that he spent $2 on his birthday gift. "How'd you do that, Dad?" my son questioned after looking at the 13 boxes and bags of Legos.

Since waking at 6, he has spent the morning building and playing with one of the smaller "Alien Conquest" sets and closely examining the others. "This must have been a really good deal," he said to me, guessing that one of the Lego boxes must be worth at least $5. I pointed to the $29.95 pricetag on the box.

His eyes grew wide. "Dad, how did you do that?" he asked again, laughing.

Ahhhhh?

There's nothing like sinking into a tub full of hot water to relax and get away from the stress of motherhood -- until you realize you poured in your son's bubble bath instead of your own.

The lost hour

My husband decided, without checking any definitive source, that last night was the night we turn our clocks back an hour. So he did.

We went to bed at our regular time, looking forward to an extra hour of sleep and to waking to daylight instead of darkness.

This morning, while I was enjoying my cappucino and reading to my son, my husband discovered Daylight Savings Time doesn't end until next Sunday. Unbeknownst to me, he began changing the numerous clocks throughout the house ahead an hour.

I checked the pendulum clock in the hallway and still had plenty of time before breakfast. So my son and I finished the book we were reading. Entering the kitchen, I glanced at the clock on the microwave. How'd that happen? I wondered, stepping up the pace to cooking breakfast.

Sitting down to hashbrowns, scrambled eggs, toast and apples, I glanced at the clock above the sink in the kitchen. I was confused by the hour I had just regained.

"I haven't gotten to that one," my husband explained.

This hike

My son and I hiked the ski trails in Chester Park yesterday morning.

We geared up -- wool socks, hiking boots, sweater/jacket, gloves, hats. I grabbed my cellphone and camera, being sure to leave enough room in my fanny pack for any "treasures" we might find. Sam grabbed his "bow and arrows," a selection of tree branches he plays with in the yard, so he could "hunt" some bear and deer.

We set off for Chester Park. I showed him my "secret" way into the park, via the trail behind the Aftenro and Northwoods Children's homes. We had fun tramping through the crunchy leaves and treading silently across fallen pine needles.

We stopped here and there to try out branches for walking sticks, snapping a few in the process. We checked out some major woodpecker damage to a tree. We paused on a bridge to throw rocks into the creek.

Once down in the bowl, we stopped for a mid-morning snack then headed to the playground. The sky darkened and air became moist. We better head home, now, I told my son.

He needed to use the bathroom back at the ski chalet first. The rain started while we were inside. We ended up calling Daddy, who rescued us from the soaking we would have gotten had we continued on home.

Our tomato harvest

I've been playing Russian roulette with my tomatoes.

Each day I bring in a shirttail full of tomatoes, mostly yellow and orange. But I keep leaving the green ones out on the vines, hoping for a few more warm days and frost-free nights. Most gardeners I know have harvested theirs already.

But as usual this time of year, the number of ripe and non-ripe tomatoes sitting on my Hoosier cabinet is growing.

We have been eating a lot of salads, grilled cheese with tomato sandwiches, and tomato and cucumber with hummus in pita. My husband has been cooking the green ones -- which stay firm and taste sweet this way -- in our Sunday morning omelettes.

And yesterday I cooked and froze a batch of basic tomato sauce. We ladled some of the still warm sauce on our cheese ravioli last night. The freshness can't be beat.

I think I will try roasted tomato sauce next.

My new comfort food

Couscous, cooked in a very light chicken broth, with shallots, dried currants, toasted pine nuts and fresh parsley.

Our bookworm

Our son, now a first-grader, read an entire book this afternoon.

It wasn't a picture book, nor an easy reader, but a 106-page chapter book called "Winter of the Ice Wizard," Number 32 in The Magic Tree House series.

He has tackled other chapter books, starting with the "Spiderwick Chronicles," which he completed over the summer. But he hadn't read a whole book in one sitting before.

He reads just about anywhere -- in his bed by headlamp after we've tucked him in for the night, sprawled across the living room floor, on a train ride with Grandma Edna, in the car, in the hammock in my brother-in-law's cabin.

His love of books comes as no surprise, considering I have read to him, and still do, every morning before breakfast and every evening before bedtime since he was born. What sometimes surprises us is the reading level of the books he selects.

We just completed JRR Tolkien's "The Hobbit," a story that continues to captivate my husband and myself, as well.

Other good reads for young boys: The Mouse and the Motorcycle, Runaway Ralph, Ralph S. Mouse (Beverly Cleary)
Henry Huggins, Henry and Ribsy (Beverly Cleary)
Kung Fu Panda: The Movie Storybook (Catherine Hapka)
National Geographic readers: Bats! Snakes! Pandas, Mummies, Storms (various authors)

Our grape harvest

Our Concord grapes were beautiful, delicious and plentiful this year. But because they have seeds, I wasn't quite sure what to do with them all.

Researching my options, I ruled out buying canning supplies and making grape jam. It just seemed to require too much of an investment of money and time for the few jars that would be produced.

I decided to freeze some. But after cutting several bunchs of the small grapes in half and removing their seeds, I decided this required too much work and time. I did get one full container in the freezer.

Ultimately, the solutions presented themselves:

I took several bunches in for "junk food" day at work. Although they didn't fit the category of junk food, my co-workers with dietary restrictions were happy someone brought something they could eat.

My son entered a bunch in his school's harvest festival, winning a red ribbon.

My husband took several bunches to a colleague who made grape jam with them. We ended up with one jar; the colleague got two.

And the birds polished off the rest.

Perfect Duluth day

We rode our bikes to Uncle Tim and Aunt Sally's house on Park Point this afternoon for a beach and barbecue outing.

The wind coming off of Lake Superior was strong, so we put lifejackets on Sam and his younger twin cousins and let them have fun jumping the huge waves. Sam struck out paddling and kicking over them, a testimony to his recent swim lessons.

Racing Mom on the bike ride along the Lakewalk back home, Sam and Daddy almost won.

At the cabin

Due to Tom's teaching schedule, Sam's t-ball games and swimming lessons, and my upcoming conference, we aren't able to get away for summer vacation.

So, we spent three days on Sweet Lake instead. Easy meals out on the deck...swim races to the diving platform...a gentle swim and float on the sand-bottomed Lake Owen...a canoe trip across Sweet Lake...an evening ride on Uncle Thom's pontoon boat to chase turtles and tour the sunken "ghost" ship...the adventures of a 6-year-old sleeping in a bunk bed for the first time...a quiet soak in the clawfoot bathtub...

It feels like we've been gone a month.

At the helm

We've been playing tourist since Grandma Edna's arrival.

So far, our outings have taken a maritime theme: a tour of the Duluth-Superior Harbor aboard the Vista Queen, a walk on the Lakewalk down to the Aerial Lift Bridge, and this visit to the Lake Superior Marine Museum.

The best part, so far, was looking straight up while we sailed under the Aerial Lift Bridge and out into Lake Superior.

Tours of the S.S. William A. Irvin iron ore carrier, Split Rock Lighthouse and Great Lakes Aquarium remain on our list.

Half a century

In today's mail

A postcard arrived in the mail today from the Minnesota Department of Agriculture issuing notice that an aerial application of a biological insecticide to slow the spread of the gypsy moth will occur in my area the week of June 13.

Seems a tad late, considering yesterday's posting.

Invasion battle begins

The Minnesota Department of Agriculture began its attack against gypsy moth caterpillars in our neighborhood around 5:30 this morning.

I was awakened by the loud drone of this plane that delivered the weapon of choice: Btk, Bacillus thuringiensis kurstaki. The soil fungus activates spores in the stomachs of caterpillars that eat vegetation upon which it has been sprayed, causing the caterpillars to die in seven to 10 days.

The official government fact sheet on Btk reports it is relatively harmless to humans and pets, though they recommend staying indoors up to 30 minutes after the spraying, waiting for the dew to dry before going outside, washing your hands after being outside, and washing any skin that comes in contact with wet spray.

Another aerial attack is likely to come later this summer. It would drop synthetic pheromone chips that confuse male moths, making it difficult for them to find female moths and mate.

Our little scholar

Less than one hour after our son arrived home from his last day of kindergarten, he was working on problems in his math workbook.

Another fun first

Our son ran his first race, the 1K Congdon Cougar Chase, this morning.

On the walk to our car afterward, I asked him what he liked best about the race. I expected it to be running with his kindergarten buddies, or chasing the school's Cougar mascot, or getting a race t-shirt.

"I liked that you could walk and run," he said. "Because I needed to walk when I got tired, then I could run again."

Automobile milestone

My vehicle and I are at a critical juncture.

I realized this as I sat waiting Thursday afternoon in Hermantown Transmission and Exhaust for repairs on my muffler/exhaust system.

I took my 1999 Honda CRV to the dealership Tuesday afternoon, expecting they would change my oil, give it a routine 21-point inspection and fix my muffler, which had become noisy over the weekend and was hanging awkwardly by one clip.

Their inspection revealed I needed a new tie-rod in a very bad way, I had acquired an oil leak of unknown origin, and some belts needed to be replaced. Oh, and the muffler work would require a $1,500 replacement of the entire exhaust.

I felt as if I had gone to the doctor for a sore throat and come away with a diagnosis of something that requires expensive surgery. Time for a second opinion.

After having the dealer fix my tie-rod and oil leak, I found my way over to Hermantown Transmission and Exhaust for an estimate. The owner put my car up, took a look and came back with a couple of repairs they could do on the spot -- for $170.

What a relief! My husband and I had spent the morning getting estimates on a new or near new car, as well as trade-in values for our two aging vehicles.

Leaving the exhaust shop, I pocketed the owner's business card. He mentioned that he knows a number of good service professionals who could help me with other repairs should I need them.

I've been very happy with the performance of my CRV and with the service the dealership has provided. But the older my car gets, we're not going to be able to afford to repair it to dealer specifications.

I thought about my previous mechanics -- Woody at Downtown Service, who worked on my 1976 Cadillac Sedan Deville, and Rick at Hermantown Service, who worked on my 1986 Pontiac Grand Prix. I liked both men and trusted the advice they gave me and the work they did.

Maybe this milestone won't be so bad after all.

Mother's Day riddles

A dog, a moon, a ball and a forest -- those were the clues my 6-year-old son gave when trying to have me guess what my Mother's Day surprise involved. And two suns, he added later.

The actual surprise was this painting my husband commissioned of my German shepherd Reba, now deceased, and some of her favorite things.


The suns were a part of my breakfast in bed of Twin Sun Toast, another recipe from my son's Star Wars Cookbook. Like all the other dishes (Oola-la French Toast, Han-Burgers and Galaxy Grilled Cheese) we have made from this book, it tasted great. Although, he and his Dad made quite a mess of the frying pan.

At the big top

Spring break diversions

While the first half of spring break was absorbed by preparing for and participating in first and second night Passover meals, we still had time to complete Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night.

Actually I started the puzzle, which my son bought his dad for Chanukah, about a month ago. I pieced together the edges one stormy weekend, thinking it would be a good family diversion. But neither my son nor husband showed much interest in working on it -- until I brought it to the stage in this picture.

We carefully spread a tablecloth over it when we had guests over for dinner. I'd work on it from time to time, sometimes adding a couple pieces before rushing off to work or other activities.

As I post this, 10 pieces remain to be fitted. I'm hoping my 6-year-old son will finish it while I attend a meeting tonight.

Spring break diversions

We had a couple of long-time friends over this evening to play Risk -- Lord of the Rings version. It was awesome, especially since this Risk neophyte ended up conquering more than half of Middle Earth and won her first game.

Sure signs of spring

Yesterday, I walked to work without my hat.

This morning, I washed my car.

This afternoon, my son came home from school covered head-to-toe in mud.

Budding chef

My son fixed supper tonight. He followed step-by-step a recipe out of his new Star Wars cookbook for Galaxy Grilled Cheese, then handed the last step of grilling the sandwiches to me. The cheddar and pickle concoction was quite tasty.

Mid-winter break

Our family did a little snowshoeing during mid-winter break. Our first outing --first-ever for our son -- was on the gentle paths and trails in the woods behind St. Scholastica.

The day was gorgeous -- sunshine, clear blue sky, and a stillness broken only by the crunch of our snowshoes and the excited cries of "Mom, Mom" as our son discovered trees full of woodpecker holes, rabbit and fox tracks and the rock fire pits and birdbaths that dot the woodscape.

Great Super Bowl ad

I can imagine my son and his dad doing this.

Ready for the big game

My son took some grief from his kindergarten classmates when he wore his new Pittsburgh Steeler's jersey to school yesterday.

"Aren't you a Packers fan?" his friend Michael moaned. My son tried the diplomatic approach: "I'm a Vikings-Steelers-Packers fan," he responded, giving nod to his three favorite teams.

Grandma Edna promised him a jersey of his favorite Steeler -- Troy Polamalu -- if they won the AFC championship. Grandpa Cook, a die-hard Eagles fan who knows how difficult it can be to follow other teams in this Vikings-Packers dominated land, bought him the Steelers football a couple years ago.

Now all he needs is a Terrible Towel, and he's ready for game day.

His turn

My son turned the table on us tonight.

Instead of me reading to him, he read to us -- two stories: "A List" and "Dragons and Giants" out of Arnold Lobel's Frog and Toad Together.

Happy birthday MLK

"Mom. Did you know..." my son said from the backseat of our car. From the tone in his voice, I could sense what he was going to tell me was important.

"...that they used to have signs on the water fountains that said for whites only? And only white people could drink the water?" We reflected, in 6-year-old terms, how silly that was.

"And they didn't have enough seats on the buses and white people took all of the seats and black people had to sit in back?" my son continued. "...And there was this one woman, I forgot her name, who was really really tired and she sat down?"

"Rosa Parks," I said, helping him remember the Martin Luther King lesson he had learned in school.

Horse parts

"Horse parts," the manifest read on the box from Japan.

"I hope it's not the head," I joked with my husband as he opened the box. Images of the Godfather played through my head, while my son eagerly helped unwrap the contents.

"I think he uses a translator program," my husband said of his benefactor. Inside was a pair of stirrups a Samurai had used.