<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Mon, 19 Jul 2010 13:37:13 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Stuff on my mind</title><description></description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>40</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-2640867788073511304</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Jul 2010 13:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-07-19T06:37:13.543-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>depression</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family roots</category><title>Stay away from the pit</title><description>It was the middle of April when Ed, my mom's husband, fell and was seriously injured ... enough to land him in the hospital and continued inpatient care. I should have started blogging then about my experiences with the medical system, insurance, and just plain growing old. But I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;Now, however, we've turned a new corner. What I have to say is my own observation ... It seems that a crisis can magnify all that is good in a relationship or instensify all its flaws. Divorce at age 86? Can't believe I'm hearing the words come out of one of the partner's mouth.&lt;br /&gt;I'm learning about my own fragile boundaries through this process - about my need to help beyond my emotional ability to do so. When I overstep the line, I see the pit of depression looming.&lt;br /&gt;It's time to pull back. But can I do so?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-2640867788073511304?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2010/07/stay-away-from-pit.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-2066086685141812692</guid><pubDate>Thu, 04 Mar 2010 23:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-03-04T15:48:26.759-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Quilting</category><title>Confessions of a fabric addict</title><description>There are plenty of us who are fabric addicts. Sometimes we suffer alone with our own stash of threads, jelly rolls and fat quarters. But most of us belong to a support group where we know we can turn when the urge to fondle fabrics becomes more than we can handle.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes this ends up as a communal trip to a fabric shop, sometimes it’s to covet the latest quilt designs, sometimes it’s to just play with each others’ fat quarters. But always, always it’s about touchy-feely fabrics, wonderful colors, dynamic designs be they batiks, Amy Butler or Kaffe Fasset.&lt;br /&gt;It’s not the actual sitting down at the machine and executing the idea that matters… it’s the preparation. The creative process, the ideas. The outcome, most of the time, really doesn’t matter.&lt;br /&gt;My group has taken the addiction to a new level, during our annual spring get-away we play a dice game with the winnings being — you guessed it — fat quarters.&lt;br /&gt;WE LOVE FAT QUARTERS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-af4aa205809ca" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http%3A%2F%2Fv8.nonxt7.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3D000af4aa205809ca%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1281700739%26sparams%3Did%252Citag%252Cip%252Cipbits%252Cexpire%26signature%3D1CB017033DE9EF250934FCF50CA5A399DFF8C73D.F51270B9F77E1DC94512BCBF146052C65F96060%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Daf4aa205809ca%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3D106ODfFRkI6OtzTirpNDAwVRE4E&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http%3A%2F%2Fv8.nonxt7.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3D000af4aa205809ca%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1281700739%26sparams%3Did%252Citag%252Cip%252Cipbits%252Cexpire%26signature%3D1CB017033DE9EF250934FCF50CA5A399DFF8C73D.F51270B9F77E1DC94512BCBF146052C65F96060%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Daf4aa205809ca%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3D106ODfFRkI6OtzTirpNDAwVRE4E&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-2066086685141812692?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-life-as-fabric-addict.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-7329684283997217129</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Feb 2010 23:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-13T07:06:20.716-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Travel</category><title>Fusion Reunion</title><description>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S3a9nloKEAI/AAAAAAAACH4/wZEl9z8-WYo/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437742087909543938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S3a9nloKEAI/AAAAAAAACH4/wZEl9z8-WYo/s200/photo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;People from India and the Middle East are so hospitable that it can make an unpretentious Midwestern want to say: "Enough already. You don't need to fuss so much over me."&lt;br /&gt;I have been in homes where garlands of flowers were ringed over me, I've been showered with gifts and special foods. And when I've left a Indian family's home - well, plan on the exit taking at least an half an hour. There's talk, there's the walk outside with the guests and then they stand and wait, wave and smile until the guest's car is completely out of site.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, being in a cross cultural marriage, this has been a cause of embarassment for me from time to time. I just never learned the art of REALLY saying "hello" and "welcome." My goodbye, at first, must have felt to my Indian friends as if I was saying to them. "Enough already, I'm done fussing."&lt;br /&gt;The contrast between East and West is so great regarding hospitality that I once asked my husband: "Why do people do all this? I find it uncomfortable being treated with so much ... well, dignity." My simple interpretation of what he said is this: "A guest is a visit from God."&lt;br /&gt;WOW!&lt;br /&gt;Today I am being made to feel like royalty - like a very special guest. We are visiting Indian friends in Columbus, and if the couple we know here weren't already in the hospitality business, they would be missing their calling.&lt;br /&gt;Our friends are the owners of this new hotel, and of course when we arrived, he was there to greet us, take care of our suitcases.&lt;br /&gt;The manager of the new place was at the door to greet us; gifts of chocolate and other goodies, a poster welcoming this group of six visitors to the "Fusion Reunion," an itinerary of the special plans for the weekend. Just in case anyone is reading this, here's a plug for the place (Fairfield Inn and Suites Marriott in Westerville, Ohio).&lt;br /&gt;Attitude can be so contagious. The staff here understands the meaning of hospitality - and sitting in the lobby here, I know it's not because we are friends of the owner, and I gotta bet that it's not coming from corporate Marriott. It's the influence of the Indian culture, and our friend's understanding of hospitality.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am a very welcomed guest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-7329684283997217129?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2010/02/fusion-reunion.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S3a9nloKEAI/AAAAAAAACH4/wZEl9z8-WYo/s72-c/photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-4849855171849679375</guid><pubDate>Sun, 07 Feb 2010 15:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-07T08:03:49.311-08:00</atom:updated><title>Happy Birthday Everett: You're #1</title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S27im6gjI1I/AAAAAAAACGg/_w2eF3IuckQ/s1600-h/Everett.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 140px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435530958451450706" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S27im6gjI1I/AAAAAAAACGg/_w2eF3IuckQ/s200/Everett.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We celebrated Everett's birthday yesterday. What a fun day with the grand kids. They are growning up so fast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They also had a great time playing outside with Uncle/Dad Nick, including building a snow fort. Everett didn't seem to mind being outside for a quick picture in the finished abode.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S27jz9XdH1I/AAAAAAAACGo/ZnJtAttJsj0/s1600-h/Kids+in+snow+fort.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 198px; HEIGHT: 144px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435532282068541266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S27jz9XdH1I/AAAAAAAACGo/ZnJtAttJsj0/s200/Kids+in+snow+fort.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-4849855171849679375?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-birthday-everett-youre-1.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S27im6gjI1I/AAAAAAAACGg/_w2eF3IuckQ/s72-c/Everett.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-820572152306586241</guid><pubDate>Mon, 01 Feb 2010 20:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-03T06:08:38.830-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>San Jose del Cabo</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Travel</category><title>Baja Goodbye</title><description>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S2i47FDVY4I/AAAAAAAAB0U/26CXzUcURqs/s1600-h/P1010114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 198px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 151px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433796275530457986" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S2i47FDVY4I/AAAAAAAAB0U/26CXzUcURqs/s200/P1010114.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S2eDqXo6duI/AAAAAAAABys/Gk0bkOIaNtg/s1600-h/P1010075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433456239369156322" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S2eDqXo6duI/AAAAAAAABys/Gk0bkOIaNtg/s200/P1010075.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chan’s reflections&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are fortunate to share with each other and our friends life's experiences. We had a good trip to Baja, Mexico. For me the most fun was meeting people living their dreams and enjoying life in freedom. Like Krishan says: "We were born to be responsible. It served us well but now we need to lesson our burden and do things with little more freedom."&lt;br /&gt;We met the Andersons: &lt;a href="http://showcase.netins.net/web/creative/lincoln/news/andersonstatue.htm"&gt;Larry Anderson &lt;/a&gt;is a renowned sculptor from Seattle. He and his wife were enjoying the Mexican culture traveling on buses, Ali born in Timbuktu, fluent in French, German, Arabic, Spanish, English, telling me sipher (zero) was invented in India. I had not heard the word sipher since I left India a long time ago. Quite a hospitable and a wise man. Osa, our cabana hostess, is a Swede who settled in Mexico after her wanderings all over the world. I enjoyed her stories of living in Burma and crossing into India through the Jungles of Assam and getting stuck for days in the mud and rain. It reminded me when my friend, Krishan, and I were stuck on the road in rain and mud for days when we left Tatas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While relaxing, I read the book by Sudha Murthy, President of Infosys Foundation doing lot of good work in India - Short Stories of everyday life - good and bad. Her following quote was quite well said. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;"The good company and good conversation - alot of the time is inversely proportionate to the higher education and economic status." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I had a laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;LeeAnn’s reflections.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some trips are more memorable than others … some trips teach you a life-lesson. This was one of those times. Our trip to San Jose del Cabo was filled with new experiences, including staying in a cabana near the ocean; conversing with people who are not afraid to grow older and are up for adventure.&lt;br /&gt;I thank God for the opportunity to visit different parts of the world: I learn so much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b6894069da705aa1" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http%3A%2F%2Fv12.nonxt2.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3Db6894069da705aa1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1281700739%26sparams%3Did%252Citag%252Cip%252Cipbits%252Cexpire%26signature%3D820233F98B5770719DBF9C1C14CBECE2375BDF91.7ED7DAF3F9ED95AA9E1A93894E9686D8D3F5E360%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db6894069da705aa1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DwLXidTh4hbQNt_yjKdws8Lx_5lo&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http%3A%2F%2Fv12.nonxt2.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3Db6894069da705aa1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1281700739%26sparams%3Did%252Citag%252Cip%252Cipbits%252Cexpire%26signature%3D820233F98B5770719DBF9C1C14CBECE2375BDF91.7ED7DAF3F9ED95AA9E1A93894E9686D8D3F5E360%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db6894069da705aa1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DwLXidTh4hbQNt_yjKdws8Lx_5lo&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-820572152306586241?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2010/02/baja-goodbye.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S2i47FDVY4I/AAAAAAAAB0U/26CXzUcURqs/s72-c/P1010114.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-8457549561129724856</guid><pubDate>Fri, 22 Jan 2010 16:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-01T12:13:18.520-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>San Jose del Cabo</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Travel</category><title>Every day is a good day - San Jose del Cabo Day 4</title><description>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1nR-yIUkaI/AAAAAAAABms/itdn9w2DSAk/s1600-h/San+Jose+del+Cabo+1-17-24-2010+057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429601702310613410" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1nR-yIUkaI/AAAAAAAABms/itdn9w2DSAk/s320/San+Jose+del+Cabo+1-17-24-2010+057.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1nRtVcLP2I/AAAAAAAABmk/fkk2YCCJIlc/s1600-h/San+Jose+del+Cabo+1-17-24-2010+056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429601402551484258" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1nRtVcLP2I/AAAAAAAABmk/fkk2YCCJIlc/s320/San+Jose+del+Cabo+1-17-24-2010+056.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"How would you describe a good day?" I asked Bernie and Ali. They both smiled at each other and Bernie, the more talkative of the two, threw up his arms in the air and said with his nearly toothless smile: "Every day is a good day .... bad day ...no, no. Every day is a day and it is a good day."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our good day was very relaxed. Chan spent a lot of the time reading, while I played with my new Flip and lay on the beach. I also wanted to find a fabric store ... no need to explain the reason for that. That proved to be quite a job, since few speak English, and fabric stores here are not very plentiful. But if you can find a childhood home in Pakistan that you left when you were 4 years old, well, a fabric store in San Jose del Cabo should be easy. A few questions here and there, a few wrong turns and we found it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For supper we decided to visit Ali's International Cafe, for fish tacos, but mostly for the stories. We talked with these two amigos for about two hours, and Ali would not let us pay for our meals. "You are my guests," he said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Both talked about how free they feel to live life the way they want to. Bernie has a small business in British Columbia, where he wholesales fruit and veggies three months out of the year. The rest of the time, he lives on the beach north of San Jose del Cabo, and comes to visit his lifelong friend when he needs to replenish his water and food supplies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ali has been a chef and some pretty impressive places, but found Mexico to be where he belongs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you are looking for a mean fish taco, and some interesting stories, don't pass by Ali's place ... oh, yeah, don't be surprised if he's not there ..... he only works when he wants to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-8457549561129724856?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2010/01/every-day-is-good-day-san-jose-del-cabo.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1nR-yIUkaI/AAAAAAAABms/itdn9w2DSAk/s72-c/San+Jose+del+Cabo+1-17-24-2010+057.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-5794243529189966877</guid><pubDate>Thu, 21 Jan 2010 01:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-01T12:13:41.025-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>San Jose del Cabo</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Travel</category><title>The other side - Day 3 San Jose del Cabo</title><description>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1e3m34oO0I/AAAAAAAABmA/3lAUlNCU4Mw/s1600-h/chan-la+beach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429009754282801986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1e3m34oO0I/AAAAAAAABmA/3lAUlNCU4Mw/s320/chan-la+beach.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'd heard from our cabana friends that Ali's International Cafe just down our road had the best fish tacos. So, that's where we began our morning. In the little hut near the marina, we met Ali, who was originally from Timbuktu, and yes, his taco is not to be missed. Our quick stop ended up in at least an hour conversation with him and his friend from Vancouver, orginally from Germany.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If bumming isn't your style, then go west of San Jose del Cabo to the better known and definitely more monied - Cabo San Lucas. Big boats, big condos, cruise ships, luxurious hotels. I'm not going to show you any photos because you'll find images easily on the Internet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We traveled north on Highway 1 go Todos Santos. It's a small town, with enough ambiance to satisfy any tourist. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The crashing waves on the Pacific side must draw surfers; however we didn't see any. Spectacular water action.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We followed the road north to loop down. We were surprised at the mountain passes, and hair-pin turns. Although we were in much need of a seista, the drive definitely kept us awake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow, with gas at $4 a gallon, we think we'll stay put. (We have been surprised at how expensive it is here ... our cheap ticket brought us to a place where dollars seem to flow out of your pocket.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-5794243529189966877?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2010/01/other-side-day-3-san-jose-del-cabo.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1e3m34oO0I/AAAAAAAABmA/3lAUlNCU4Mw/s72-c/chan-la+beach.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-7491282151622481353</guid><pubDate>Wed, 20 Jan 2010 00:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-01T12:12:49.003-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>San Jose del Cabo</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Travel</category><title>On the road to somewhere- Day 2 San Jose del Cabo</title><description>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1ZYLa-drNI/AAAAAAAABl4/HJBe33QRjUQ/s1600-h/Cinema+in+the+sand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428623354084830418" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1ZYLa-drNI/AAAAAAAABl4/HJBe33QRjUQ/s320/Cinema+in+the+sand.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1ZWoHycdLI/AAAAAAAABlo/a-tFecjW8l8/s1600-h/Road+to+somewhere.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428621648127095986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1ZWoHycdLI/AAAAAAAABlo/a-tFecjW8l8/s320/Road+to+somewhere.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After fixing breakfast outside, we decided to take a road trip somewhere north but along the coast, not the interior. We wanted to stay off the main road. The only road available, well, was a gravel road to somewhere. We took it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We saw a lot of beautiful scenery, spectacular sandy and EMPTY BEACHES. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1ZXnAyeLrI/AAAAAAAABlw/TGwrRa8c2e8/s1600-h/Shipwreck+library.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 152px; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428622728579919538" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1ZXnAyeLrI/AAAAAAAABlw/TGwrRa8c2e8/s320/Shipwreck+library.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There were some surprises along the way .... we learned that even the most deserted road leads to somewhere for somebody.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-7491282151622481353?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2010/01/on-road-to-somewhere.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1ZYLa-drNI/AAAAAAAABl4/HJBe33QRjUQ/s72-c/Cinema+in+the+sand.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-11679343947909474</guid><pubDate>Mon, 18 Jan 2010 23:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-01T12:14:01.431-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>San Jose del Cabo</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Travel</category><title>Ed Delfin Blanco - our thatched roof get-away</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1UsJqYJzcI/AAAAAAAABlg/fygLdA0ORok/s1600-h/beach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428293470371040706" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1UsJqYJzcI/AAAAAAAABlg/fygLdA0ORok/s320/beach.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1UmEhGcIXI/AAAAAAAABlY/xTuQR9osAHM/s1600-h/P1010080.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428286784911712626" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1UmEhGcIXI/AAAAAAAABlY/xTuQR9osAHM/s320/P1010080.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another adventure off the paved highway. If you want to experience life in a small Mexican fishing village, I'd advise that you get here quick. Pueblo La Playa Mexico, just near San Jose del Cabo is quickly becoming Disneytized! The rugged, desert terrain is being transformed into golf courses and boulevards lined with palm trees and transplanted cactus for tourists who prefer a more sanitized experience. But for now, this place is still a slice of authentic Mexico, but the financial bulldozers are making their mark.&lt;br /&gt;Chan calls this place "art" ... imperfect, life as it should be.&lt;br /&gt;Now you wonder why I bring this up. It's because the push pull of development has spurred our hostess, Osa, to action. She is rebelling against the changes, and says that if she won't do it, no one will because the people of the village are poor and for the most part uneducated.&lt;br /&gt;Osa's El Delfin Blanco is a quiet retreat close enough to the water to hear the crashing waves of the Cortez Bay, and the village dogs barking their power at night. Can you believe a golden sunset viewed from a nearly deserted sand beach? Well, it's here.&lt;br /&gt;Osa must be in her mid-60s and originally from Sweden. She loves to talk, and will guide you through your place here that is in transition ... help you rent a car and even have it delivered, have beer, cheese and crackers ready as well.&lt;br /&gt;Today we spent in San Jose del Cabo.&lt;br /&gt;Ate Huevos Rancheros, fish tacos at El Herradero;&lt;br /&gt;met a lovely couple our age who are adventurous...&lt;br /&gt;Larry and Sharilyn Anderson of Bonney Lake Washington&lt;br /&gt;They love to travel as much as we, but are minimalists .... she told me to save my old underwear for travelling so you can throw them away, and only have certain outfits that you bring (and wear your swimsuit under your clothes as you travel ... no need for a bra .... and you're ready to jump in the water.) Pack light... for her it is a backback, for him it is a small suitcase with wheels. Don't rent cars, use local transportation. Lots of good ideas for traveling on the cheap.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we cook our meal outside on a make-shift stove, and then go to the beach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-11679343947909474?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2010/01/ed-delfin-blanco-our-thatched-roof-get.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/S1UsJqYJzcI/AAAAAAAABlg/fygLdA0ORok/s72-c/beach.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-8455203708073518816</guid><pubDate>Wed, 30 Dec 2009 23:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-04T13:43:04.988-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Columns (published)</category><title>Ring in the new with a deep breath</title><description>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/SzvflPwKsLI/AAAAAAAABkA/qZ70pMTOUdM/s1600-h/New+Year.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 216px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 169px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421172407447236786" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/SzvflPwKsLI/AAAAAAAABkA/qZ70pMTOUdM/s320/New+Year.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;PUBLISHED PRIOR LAKE AMERICAN 2000:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;PHOTO - 1999&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Chris, Molly, Nick , Lee Ann)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By Lee Ann Schutz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;From start to finish, it’s been quite a year &amp;shy;– this year 2000. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The TV commentators and newspaper opinion writers have had their say on events of this year. Now it’s the historian’s turn to mull it all over and, with time, help us develop some perspective.&lt;br /&gt;Remember how the year 2000 began? The &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Year_2000_problem"&gt;Y2K&lt;/a&gt; scare was just the first of a succession of media events. Now we end the year with a presidential election that has left many of us questioning the legitimacy of our vote. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In this look-back over the past year, we can’t forget about the economy. The high-ride of confidence that bolstered our attitude and spending took unexpected dips and turns this year. The “new economy” shows that the simple law of physics – what goes up, must come down- still applies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;It’s just that some of us forgot to wear our parachutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Before closing the book on 2000, a respite, a breather, may be in order. That’s right, take a deep cleansing  breath to get rid of all the negative. We do have the promise of a new year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our president-elect, George W. Bush, has a tremendous challenge before him. Instead of partisan bickering, what if our political leaders actually rise to the challenge, move forward in unison with the interests of the country in mind.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe too, the slowing economy will force us to take a hard look at our consuming and place greater value on saving and stewardship. And while we’re taking a deep breath, think about our community and the residents who give of their time and talent to make our hometown a better place.&lt;br /&gt;How about our young people – our kids, their friends? Sometimes we don’t acknowledge positive attributes of our young residents. But they have vision for which we can be proud. They show us committed involvement to school activities and to various community efforts.&lt;br /&gt;As with previous New Years, we have the decision of whether we’ll be bystanders and complainers or part of the solutions.&lt;br /&gt;May 2001 bring out the best in who we are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-8455203708073518816?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/12/ring-in-new-with-deep-breathe.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/SzvflPwKsLI/AAAAAAAABkA/qZ70pMTOUdM/s72-c/New+Year.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-6048007380329975072</guid><pubDate>Sat, 26 Dec 2009 18:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-26T10:35:07.553-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Christmas</category><title>A White Christmas</title><description>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/SzZXSrp0clI/AAAAAAAABjA/v7QRjHTkPYg/s1600-h/P1010062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419615180054360658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/SzZXSrp0clI/AAAAAAAABjA/v7QRjHTkPYg/s200/P1010062.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Christmas eve/day snowstorm made for a good old-fashioned Minnesota winterwonderland. Estimates of about 16 inches of new snow, mild temps.... perfect for snowmen and snowballs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-6048007380329975072?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/12/white-christmas.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/SzZXSrp0clI/AAAAAAAABjA/v7QRjHTkPYg/s72-c/P1010062.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-4517625831164662834</guid><pubDate>Mon, 21 Dec 2009 21:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-21T13:57:56.745-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family traditions</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Christmas</category><title>Goodbye 2009- Hello 2010</title><description>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sy_vFL_soeI/AAAAAAAABg4/kL0FggQObfc/s1600-h/11251_89432122708_652762708_2098822_1317679_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 152px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417811749148336610" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sy_vFL_soeI/AAAAAAAABg4/kL0FggQObfc/s200/11251_89432122708_652762708_2098822_1317679_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess if there’s anything new this year in our lives it’s this: 2009 has been not a body-building year for us, but rather a body re-building year … physically and emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;Each morning, Chan doesn’t exactly bound out of bed at 4:30 a.m., but he’s no slacker either. He’s at the Burnsville YMCA when the doors open at 5 a.m. In fact, if he forgets his I.D., they just smile and let him in. Yes, his 5 a.m. exercise routine has earned him the title of “A YMCA Regular.” Me, on the other hand, I just roll over and am happy that I have one more hour to lie in bed.&lt;br /&gt;Chan ‘s heart bypass surgery last year was a real wake-up call for him, and his self-discipline and commitment to change is showing in his body and his smile.&lt;br /&gt;My pivotal moment came in the summer when my leg just gave out on me. Yup. Just standing there and all of a sudden the pain just stopped me cold. No clear diagnosis other than overactive nerves. Maybe it’s polymyalgia, fibromyalgia, or as I call it “oldalgia.” Anyway, this and a wrestling match with the monster depression pushed me to deal with my “stinkin’ thinkin’.” Gosh, putting the pieces together again is darn near a full-time job!&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of a job! How grateful I am that we have meaningful work. My prayer is that 2010 brings jobs and stability back to so many families.&lt;br /&gt;Chan still has the store (not at the Mall of America) and is moving into other ventures (shhhhhh. I don’t think he’s quite ready to talk about it).&lt;br /&gt;Me? Well I’m still at the House of Representatives and am now in the sixth year of teaching a community journalism class at the U of M. I am still very passionate about journalism, and love keeping the connection. My job forces me to keep up with technology, and you can follow the House on Twitter; follow my blog http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/ or friend me through Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we took some trips this year. Probably the most memorable for me was our road trip to Calumet in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula in search of my grandfather’s roots as a copper miner. A local historian showed us an 1894 directory with the address of my great great-grandfather’s house in nearby Lake Lillian. That was really interesting.&lt;br /&gt;We also had a great visit with friends in Montreal, and took a spectacular side trip to Quebec City.&lt;br /&gt;Our collective kids and grandkids (four for Lee Ann and five for Chan) are all doing well. This fall, Chan went to India with two of his grandchildren along with two of his children and their partners. What a wonderful experience; especially for the little ones and their grandpa.&lt;br /&gt;The very best to you in the New Year, and please stay in touch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-4517625831164662834?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/12/goodbye-2009-hello-2010.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sy_vFL_soeI/AAAAAAAABg4/kL0FggQObfc/s72-c/11251_89432122708_652762708_2098822_1317679_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-8002293203337508888</guid><pubDate>Tue, 15 Dec 2009 20:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-15T12:32:21.083-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family traditions</category><title>Holiday Elves 2009</title><description>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/SyfxtsNhi7I/AAAAAAAABgA/e-YN3rMTcBI/s1600-h/232323232%257Ffp996%253Enu%253D3247%253E969%253E2%253B9%253EWSNRCG%253D333499926%253A325nu0mrj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 310px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 223px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415562844200602546" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/SyfxtsNhi7I/AAAAAAAABgA/e-YN3rMTcBI/s200/232323232%257Ffp996%253Enu%253D3247%253E969%253E2%253B9%253EWSNRCG%253D333499926%253A325nu0mrj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Harper, Stella, Charlie and Everette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Merry&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Just got this photo of my wonderful grandkids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-8002293203337508888?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/12/holiday-elves-2009.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/SyfxtsNhi7I/AAAAAAAABgA/e-YN3rMTcBI/s72-c/232323232%257Ffp996%253Enu%253D3247%253E969%253E2%253B9%253EWSNRCG%253D333499926%253A325nu0mrj.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-2901537316912329847</guid><pubDate>Mon, 30 Nov 2009 15:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-30T08:34:55.623-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family traditions</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Thanksgiving</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Christmas</category><title>Cookies help me find Christmas</title><description>&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feat=flashalbum&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fbrovoldsims%2Falbumid%2F5409305128129613345%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little considered fallout of divorce is "Who Gets Christmas?"&lt;br /&gt;Christmas had always been mine before the big "D." From Snow Villages, homemade cookies and candies, homemade presents, and most importantly ... FAMILY. It was my time to devote energies to those that I love. I really wanted to create a magical time filled with memories.&lt;br /&gt;After divorce ... "So, this is Christmas!"&lt;br /&gt;I still wanted my kids (even though grown) to continue to experience the traditions they grew up with, and I knew that lay in Montevideo with their dad, not with me in the cities.&lt;br /&gt;To complicate tradition woes: My sister had always had Thanksgiving, an event we really looked forward to annually. This year, the tradition went with them to their new winter home in South Carolina. Now, I felt a sense of obligation to bring my side of the family together, especially for her two daughters who would be experiencing their first Thanksgiving away from their parents.&lt;br /&gt;After 12 years of my struggle to find a new holiday tradition that could include a blended and extended family, it came this year in the form of COOKIES!&lt;br /&gt;Our first cookie bake, decorate and take event was a successful blend of frosting, candy do-dads, and our families,. (The homemade pizza's weren't too bad either.)&lt;br /&gt;This, I hope, becomes a tradition that grows each year.&lt;br /&gt;The hit of the day was Molly's replication of Grandma Winslow's sugar cookie!&lt;br /&gt;What fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-2901537316912329847?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/11/cookies-help-me-find-christmas.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-2926439159996797100</guid><pubDate>Fri, 27 Nov 2009 15:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-27T07:33:38.409-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Experiences</category><title>I Caught Black Friday Fever</title><description>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sw_vUeGLgUI/AAAAAAAABWo/n4S4wOhxUpE/s1600/Joanne+Black+Friday.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408804812450660674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sw_vUeGLgUI/AAAAAAAABWo/n4S4wOhxUpE/s200/Joanne+Black+Friday.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sw_viGG1-rI/AAAAAAAABWw/fvXLvN5i5QA/s1600/Walmart.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408805046529161906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sw_viGG1-rI/AAAAAAAABWw/fvXLvN5i5QA/s200/Walmart.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Joanne Fabrics                                                                                                                                     Wal-Mart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'How am I going to get out of here.' &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That was the comment I heard from a fellow traveler as we weaved our way through the meandering line of people, with filled carts, who waited patiently to check out at Wal-Mart as the clock approached 7 a.m. on Friday, Nov. 27.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Black Friday — never have I participated, and never did I think I would. But, as a news reporter, I had to do it sometime, and this year it was it. So, my trusty sidekick, Chan, and I set out around 5:30 a.m. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;The dark morning revealed empty streets ... that is until we hit Highway 42, near the Apple Valley shopping district.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The backuped traffic and filled parking lots at and near Wal-Mart intimidated me! I wasn't ready. I needed time to ease into this experience. So, off to Joanne Fabrics ... yes, there was a line. Good deals on a popular cutting devise for scrapbookers was enough to bring the first few people in line out at 1 a.m. to set up camp for the 6 a.m. opening. Yup. They were laughing and having a good time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next, off to Target ... seemed weird to see the empty Cub Food parking lot adjacent to the crammed lot that housed the "Bullseye" and Best Buy customers. Just two days before, Cub was as chaotic as their neighbors are today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With all the good deals at Target, I forgot my reporter duties and did quick cart-wheelees as I made my way to the items on my shopping list. ... I caught Black Friday fever. As I got to the checkout, I started emptying out the cart, not onto the counter, but to the clerk for placement back in the store. "Sorry," I said, "I kinda got carried away."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whew! That's now over! I'm going back to bed. But, I had so much fun, I'm ready to do it again next year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-2926439159996797100?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-caught-black-friday-fever.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sw_vUeGLgUI/AAAAAAAABWo/n4S4wOhxUpE/s72-c/Joanne+Black+Friday.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-1061578295595075122</guid><pubDate>Fri, 20 Nov 2009 20:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-26T09:00:20.585-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Community journalism</category><title>New media, new opportunities</title><description>Yesterday I attended a great Minnesota Association of Government Communicators &lt;a href="http://www.magconline.org/workshops.html"&gt;conference &lt;/a&gt;on new media and its applications for government communicators. I plan to spend some time reviewing the tips and tutorials on &lt;a href="http://social-media-university-global.org/"&gt;http://social-media-university-global.org/&lt;/a&gt;. While many people still do not have computer access, let alone &lt;em&gt;FAST speed,&lt;/em&gt; the Internet allows us to uncomplicate complex issues by using video and audio as well is as the written word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-1061578295595075122?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-media-new-opportunities.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-2061234172116718208</guid><pubDate>Thu, 05 Nov 2009 15:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-05T07:50:37.363-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Paukert</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family roots</category><title>The ties that bind: Grandma Paukert</title><description>Last night’s dinner with cousins Barb Smith and Doug Lovejoy brought out shared memories of our Grandma Paukert.&lt;br /&gt;We are among the “junior and senior” first-cousins in the tribe of oh … not sure …. 75? We remember the 1950s, the significance of girls wearing a square scarf folded into a triangle on your head with the knot tied at the chin; we remember the days of BIG cars, drive-ins, saddle shoes, &lt;a href="http://www.acontinuouslean.com/2009/06/22/first-look-gant-rugger-ss10/"&gt;GANT&lt;/a&gt; Madras shirts with the back tabs, that were collector’s items for girls. (I wonder if I still have my collection somewhere?)&lt;br /&gt;We have shared memories of Grandma Paukert  at that time, the matriarch of a family of 11 who lived her later years in a two-story house in Owatonna, within walking distance of the Catholic church. We “juniors and senior members of the second generation, were preteen or early teens and, although there were few times we were all together as a complete Paukert unit, we enjoyed even the anticipation of each other’s company.&lt;br /&gt;Grandma’s house — the smell of apple butter and old lady; her waddle due to arthritis; her sagging boobs; her dark-colored housedresses; her long, yellow-grey hair, braided and pulled back in a bun; her love of card games, soap operas and never-ending crochet projects.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t remember ever kissing or hugging her — Paukert’s aren’t known for physical displays of affection. I don’t remember her ever telling me stories, after all “hard work” was our mantra. But I remember her home being a place of warmth and safety, a place where family connected.&lt;br /&gt;Every two years, a Paukert family reunion is held, but there’s fear that as the children of Elizabeth pass on (there are only three sisters living,) and as the “senior- and junior-”aged cousins move to retirement, the younger generation (whose numbers are too many to count) may no longer be interested in the Elizabeth-family-ties.&lt;br /&gt;The chain would break.&lt;br /&gt;Too bad … but I guess that’s the way it’s meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;Now, as a grandma, I realize how important it is for me to create my own smells and experiences for my grandchildren … for their children- my great grandchildren- I will most likely only be a string of memories from their parents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-2061234172116718208?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/11/ties-that-bind-grandma-paukert.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-505950520702261100</guid><pubDate>Wed, 28 Oct 2009 15:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-20T12:54:15.619-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>depression</category><title>Stuff REALLY on my mind</title><description>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Suhs8j9DYqI/AAAAAAAABIw/5OMpFUUA2F0/s1600-h/kirkbride_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397683941102805666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Suhs8j9DYqI/AAAAAAAABIw/5OMpFUUA2F0/s200/kirkbride_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a tough year ... bad knee leads to hospital stay. Stinkin' thinkin' leads to thinkin' it through - with some help.&lt;br /&gt;Depression - it's hard to come out of the closet on that one. This is a literal statement for me, because when I'm in the darkest corners of my mind, that's where I go (or my other favorite spot is under the bed covers.)&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I struggle with depression - THERE - I've said it. There is still so much discrimination against those with any form of mental illness. It is hard to admit the diagnosis because it conjurs up images of the poor souls in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/One_Flew_Over_the_Cuckoo"&gt;One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest&lt;/a&gt;. For me, I vividly recall the &lt;a href="http://news.minnesota.publicradio.org/features/2004/07/16_straumanisa_fergussidebar/://"&gt;Fergus Falls Treatment Center&lt;/a&gt;, (I graduated from the town's high school, and the grounds were a great place to go "park.") But the building - well it was scarey! The thought that at one time in our history you could have been sent there for stinkin' thinkin' makes me cringe.&lt;br /&gt;Times have changed ... in the partial program I attended, I met smart, creative and kind depressives like me. Thanks to good meds, &lt;a href="http://www.allina.com/ahs/united.nsf/page/mental_health_home_page#mental"&gt;good programs&lt;/a&gt;, and a lot of hard work on my part, I am managing my depression rather than it managing me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-505950520702261100?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/10/stuff-really-on-my-mind.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Suhs8j9DYqI/AAAAAAAABIw/5OMpFUUA2F0/s72-c/kirkbride_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-1461352845496761168</guid><pubDate>Sun, 07 Jun 2009 00:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-20T12:54:48.287-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>restaurant reviews</category><title>Mediterranean in the rain</title><description>Our plans can often change on a whim.&lt;br /&gt;I've heard so much about the movie "Up," that I couldn't think of a better way to spend a rainy afternoon than in the theater. We decided, however, that we'd stop for a beer first ... Umm, where should it be Green Mill or &lt;a href="http://www.ansarisgrill.com/"&gt;Ansari's&lt;/a&gt;. (Both were quite near the movie theater in Eagan.)&lt;br /&gt;We'd never been there before, Ansari's that is, so Ansari's it was. It was quiet there at 4:15 in the afternoon. Whenever we can, we like to sit at the bar, because you never know who you're going to end up talking to! So one Greek appetizer and a beer, led to another beer and dinner, and conversation with the restaurant's owner, his children, and Matthew and Chris who sat next to us at the bar.&lt;br /&gt;The lamb platter with rice, the tabbouleh and pita were outstanding, combine that with the friendly people we met, we will be back.&lt;br /&gt;I got the idea of writing a story about Hookahua pipes and Shisha (the type of tobacco used), they plan to have it available for customers this summer if they build a patio. They do however, have an online business selling the stuff. I think I could market the story to some publication.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-1461352845496761168?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/06/mediterranean-in-rain.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-8682901272515451061</guid><pubDate>Sun, 31 May 2009 21:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-20T12:55:14.716-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family roots</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Derrick</category><title>Mining the Derrick Name-The Movie</title><description>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-74701474a34476d0" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http%3A%2F%2Fv17.nonxt6.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3D74701474a34476d0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1281700739%26sparams%3Did%252Citag%252Cip%252Cipbits%252Cexpire%26signature%3D622B57DED6AA6B793BD8AEE70E2C4850E93AFD5C.194B223CAB62AC359D2C7F7351435DA06E4B154D%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D74701474a34476d0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3D3AOGfCkMAnte6xM7fZMxsvmutrQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http%3A%2F%2Fv17.nonxt6.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3D74701474a34476d0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1281700739%26sparams%3Did%252Citag%252Cip%252Cipbits%252Cexpire%26signature%3D622B57DED6AA6B793BD8AEE70E2C4850E93AFD5C.194B223CAB62AC359D2C7F7351435DA06E4B154D%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D74701474a34476d0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3D3AOGfCkMAnte6xM7fZMxsvmutrQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-8682901272515451061?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><enclosure type='video/mp4' url='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=74701474a34476d0&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/05/mining-derrick-name-movie_31.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-2774845635468413807</guid><pubDate>Fri, 29 May 2009 20:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-28T09:26:16.007-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family roots</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Derrick</category><title>Derricks north and south</title><description>I was doing some looking around on the Web regarding "Derrick, Lake Linden." I found this post.&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;http://www.angelfire.com/sc2/thederrickfamily of SOUTH CAROLINA has other links&lt;br /&gt;-John C DERRICK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*c1900 Michigan, USA. Larry SMITH lhsmith"at"srv.net 2002&lt;br /&gt;I have a picture of the Hubbell, MI band in 1900, of which my gfr, Henry&lt;br /&gt;SMITH, was the leader. In the band were Fred DERRICK on trombone &amp;amp; Ben&lt;br /&gt;DERRICK on clarinet. They may have lived in Lake Linden, the next town to&lt;br /&gt;Hubbell. This was copper mining and milling country then. I think the&lt;br /&gt;DERRICKs may have moved on to the gold mining area of Dawson, Yukon&lt;br /&gt;Territory, Canada later. I have postcards c1910 to my grandfather about&lt;br /&gt;Dawson, but the correspondent didn't sign - but I always thought it was a&lt;br /&gt;DERRICK or RILLSTONE that wrote.&lt;br /&gt;If you think they may be related, I could probably see what the family&lt;br /&gt;consisted of in the 1900 census. If you use Ancestry.com, which I don't, I&lt;br /&gt;think you can see the 1900 and 1910 census on line. Lake Linden is in&lt;br /&gt;Schoolcraft Township of Houghton County, and Hubbell is in Torch Lake Twp,&lt;br /&gt;Houghton Co., MI.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-2774845635468413807?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/05/derricks-north-and-south.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-7024266362296621508</guid><pubDate>Wed, 27 May 2009 23:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-28T09:26:58.968-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family roots</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Derrick</category><title>That's all there is</title><description>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Photo of Herbert Derrick&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sh3SM47-pWI/AAAAAAAAArk/JJcGGBH33MY/s1600-h/Herb+Derrick008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340655852015494498" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sh3SM47-pWI/AAAAAAAAArk/JJcGGBH33MY/s320/Herb+Derrick008.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340651305233713330" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sh3OEO2uiLI/AAAAAAAAArc/_rqpCvVcq8M/s320/P1010015.JPG" /&gt;The Calumet shopkeeper told me it was no mystery to him why Charles was in Lake Linden. That's where the smelting operation was for the copper mines. And it turns out that Sheffield, England had plenty of smelters, and people from there were very skilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The man was also helpful in disciphering the letters behind the names in the directory.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Charles was a labor, as was his brother Benjamin, Ernest was a driver. We figure that Charles was the oldest because it is listed that Ernest and Benjamin lived with him. Now the kicker. ... the yellowed pages lay out exactly where the family lived in Lake Linden. ... two houses in from the corner of Hecla St. and G St.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's hard to tell whether one of the houses on the block is where the family lived ... I doubt it. Houses would have been closer together ... my guess is that it is gone, vanished, just like the Derricks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After visiting the street, we wanted to see if we could learn more and located the historical society building, but it was closed. So next stop, the cemeteries. First one, as it turns out, was the Catholic cemetery. There's no way a Derrick would be buried there, even if the church would have allowed it. We went to the Protestant cemetery and combed the grounds, looking at every tombstone, but there was no Derrick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many questions. What happened to these people? How come there are no photos of them? How come my dad rarely spoke of his family? OK, if the directory was from 1898, and Herbert was born in 1891 or so, that means there was quite a clan in the house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Herbert had two brothers, Ernie and Fred, and there was a sister, Aunt Lisa. But who was the oldest? Where did Herbert move to? How did he meet his wife Ina Lee from Tornoto Canada? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although Lake Linden is a beautiful spot, I came away very confused and with so many questions about these people. It's not so much that I have a desire to learn more about my roots, its more wanting to know why these people were forgotten ... chopped off the family tree. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all there is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-7024266362296621508?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/05/thats-all-there-is.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sh3SM47-pWI/AAAAAAAAArk/JJcGGBH33MY/s72-c/Herb+Derrick008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-6865943574581727925</guid><pubDate>Wed, 27 May 2009 23:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-01T12:16:40.531-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family roots</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Derrick</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Travel</category><title>Some answers, more questions</title><description>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sh3MHovWK-I/AAAAAAAAArU/bEy5Qmc4sNA/s1600-h/img026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 190px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340649164698430434" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sh3MHovWK-I/AAAAAAAAArU/bEy5Qmc4sNA/s320/img026.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My great grandfather, Charles was among the working class in the glory days of the mining boom in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. It was a mystery as to why he came to the place from Sheffield, England. Neither do I know anything about my great grandmother, Maria Law, who was born in Sheffield. These are the bits of information written by my mother on a family tree in my baby book.&lt;br /&gt;Charles’ son, Herbert, was born in 1891 in Calumet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aunt Mary Lee said that Charles lived in Lake Linden and that he left town aroudn the age of 16 – that’s it, that’s all. That’s not much to know about your roots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, here I am in Calumet, not even knowing what I’m looking for.&lt;br /&gt;A happenstance walk into a wonderful gift store ,however, provided more than just a clue about my DNA. All it took was my answer to a simple question from this amateur historian-mayor of Calumet-shopkeeper wanting to know my reason for visiting the area, and my less-than-enthusiastic couriosity about my past turned into a full-fledged misson to learn more.&lt;br /&gt;“I want to at least visit the town where my great grandparents lived,” I responded. “But I’m not really sure if it was here or in Lake Linden.”&lt;br /&gt;“Well let me see if I can help,” he said as he pulled out a 1898 equivalent to today’s “white pages” listing the names of people living in each of the area towns, their work position with the mines and the location of their home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First he looked up Calumet … nothing. Then Lake Linden. There it was … my past … Derrick, Charles.&lt;br /&gt;But the answers this shopkeeper-amateur historian-mayor of Calumet gave me, raised questions. Charles had two brothers …. Ernie and Benjamin.&lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow, it’s off to Lake Linden to see if I can find the family home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-6865943574581727925?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/05/finding-truth.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/Sh3MHovWK-I/AAAAAAAAArU/bEy5Qmc4sNA/s72-c/img026.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-646618788071568522</guid><pubDate>Mon, 25 May 2009 21:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-01T12:15:46.036-08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family roots</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Derrick</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Travel</category><title>Calumet: Dreams reborn</title><description>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/ShsQG7V5API/AAAAAAAAAqc/JT5xyYKQh9w/s1600-h/P1010053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339879494372622578" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/ShsQG7V5API/AAAAAAAAAqc/JT5xyYKQh9w/s200/P1010053.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/ShsQGoIM7dI/AAAAAAAAAqU/HAUjEpn-iPE/s1600-h/P1010039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339879489214934482" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/ShsQGoIM7dI/AAAAAAAAAqU/HAUjEpn-iPE/s200/P1010039.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/ShsPMTrS8GI/AAAAAAAAAqM/j6Ca4K2_eJ8/s1600-h/P1010035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339878487292571746" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/ShsPMTrS8GI/AAAAAAAAAqM/j6Ca4K2_eJ8/s200/P1010035.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We made it.&lt;br /&gt;We are in &lt;a href="http://www.mainstreetcalumet.com/"&gt;Calumet&lt;/a&gt;, Michigan. That’s where my grandfather, Herbert, I understand was born in 1891. That’s about all I knew before deciding to take a trip here. To say that it was a trip to find my roots, would be sort of a half-truth; actually it is an excuse to get away to a new place. It is more about taking a trip and spending time with my husband, doing what we love to do – exploring out-of-the-way places.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Calumet is a town where every building has a story. The years 1898 or 1890 years are engraved into he red brick above the doors. This was a town built on copper, it was a town built on dreams, but it was a town built on the hope of a better future. People came from England, Canada, Finland to work in the copper mines. and the side-industries needed for the mineral. The immigrants built glorious buildings, glamorous Victorian mansions for the bosses and simple miner homes for the laborers. It was a town of more than 60,000, they say. And Friday nights were a time to celebrate. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Even though the buildings are solid, well-dewsinged, meant too last, they couldn't satnd up to the economic pressure of a mining industry gone bad. Calumet is a town that died. It died so quickly when the mining industry closed down that the empty buildings are ghosts of broken dreams. One building is going up for auction, and if you give a buck, you’d probably get it. People just walked or ran away from here, looking for a better life. Their dreams died with the copper business. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But people are coming back; people who are not afraid of hard work, and like those before them, are building on their dream, so the town is starting to take on new life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Stops along the way:&lt;br /&gt;Night one: Duluth, stayed with Nick, Echo, Stella and Charlie;&lt;br /&gt;Next day: Fabulous quilt shop in Ironwood, Michigan&lt;br /&gt;Pasties in Ontoagon, Michingan&lt;br /&gt;Carrousel Winery, South Range, Michigan.&lt;br /&gt;Michigan House and Brew Pub, Calument, Michigan&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-646618788071568522?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-made-it.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/ShsQG7V5API/AAAAAAAAAqc/JT5xyYKQh9w/s72-c/P1010053.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8191241273966309824.post-7584304694482075178</guid><pubDate>Mon, 25 May 2009 20:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-28T09:28:37.387-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family roots</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Derrick</category><title>Derrick - no answers but more questions</title><description>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/ShsEyKRtb6I/AAAAAAAAApU/ntFO-1wLpeU/s1600-h/img028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 133px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339867042976460706" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/ShsEyKRtb6I/AAAAAAAAApU/ntFO-1wLpeU/s200/img028.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's weekend before Memorial Day.&lt;br /&gt;Generally my dad’s birthday – May 23 - brings me to Fort Snelling National Cemetery where he is buried. Molly usually comes with me. We buy flowers, look around the grave plots for an empty container to “reuse” for our annual memorial that we place next to my dad’s tombstone.&lt;br /&gt;Charles W. “Bill” Derrick, his white stone, in a sea of white markers stands sentry over his place of rest. He had heart issues, and his third major heart attack, got him. I understand he just came home from a round of golf, sat in his chair, and he was gone. That's it! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't know my dad very well. He didn't share much about himself ... if you'd ask him a question, his response would be a joke. I swear I believed, and maybe still believe, that our roots go back to "Blackfoot Indians." He was a very likeable guy, but you couldn't get close to him. I think he only called me by my name no more that 10 times in my life ... he just never called me anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, for Molly and me it's the same every year on Memorial Day. We say “hi” to grandpa. I thank him for watching over my sons during the past year. (Molly has her own angel). And then I tell grandpa stories. She never really knew her grandfather. She was too young to have sat by his side as he sang country-western music while stumming the "guitar or playing the accordian. She never received one of his "momentos" that he would quickly disperse to Chris and Nick as we were leaving. That coconut monkey, golf trophy or wood carving from some trinket store bought during one of his travels, sure carry new meaning now that he is gone.&lt;br /&gt;My stories are always the same. You see, my memories of my father have faded. Does time do that to us? Make it so there are only certain times, people and events that we can recall? Scary to think about, that down the road, I will be just a few memories to my children …. maybe a song, maybe a vacation we took together, maybe my favorite food that they hated but I made them eat.&lt;br /&gt;My dad loved to have fun. I mean he REALLY loved a good time. But these are grandpa stories for another Memorial Day weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Today, I am writing about my trip to his past, his father’s and his grandfather’s home. As little as I know about my father, I know even less about his father, uncles, grandfather, mother, grandmother. No one talked about them .... there are very, very few photos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So it's off to Calumet and Lake Linden Michigan to my roots.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8191241273966309824-7584304694482075178?l=brovaldsims.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://brovaldsims.blogspot.com/2009/05/derrick-no-answers-but-more-questions.html</link><author>lwahi@hotmail.com (Lee Ann Schutz Wahi)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a0r-M9toyNc/ShsEyKRtb6I/AAAAAAAAApU/ntFO-1wLpeU/s72-c/img028.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>