Cutting Edge Fashion

My mother once told me, “Life is not all khaki and denim.” (I think she would have included “maternity jumpers” in that statement, but she didn’t want to offend me.) In other words, “spice up your wardrobe, honey.”

Since the advent of children and a limited income I’ve become uber-practical in my clothing purchases. If it didn’t match most of my existing pieces, I wouldn’t part with my money for it. You guessed it: my closet was boring with mostly black, navy blue, tan, burgandy and gray.

But, thanks to my sister-in-law, that’s changing. She’s put me on a new path of cutting edre fashion and high style. I’ve taken her gifts as a loving, subtle hint to get out of my proletarian rut and jazz up my life with color, pattern and the peak of today’s styles. Haute couture here I come!

Last Christmas she presented me with these hot pink and black herringbone patterned tights. Have you ever seen such a creation? I tell you, I turn heads when I wear these. The looks on peoples faces tells me how disappointed they are that they’re not the trendsetter that I am.

Her most recent gift to me was this pair of fuzzy purple/aqua/white striped legwarmers. Since my sister-in-law lives in a big city I fully trust her leading regarding what’s “hot” for the season. (Though I would have thought that legwarmers were a thing of the ‘90’s. Who am I to question?) Experimenting with them, I’m not sure how they look best. I thought I’d give them a test run at the gym tomorrow with a bulky sweatshirt and leggings.

Feel free what do you think??

Maybe not too free .....

No One’s Safe with Mafia

“You lie like a dog.”

”I wouldn’t believe a word he says.”

”And you say you’re a pastor?”

”Who do you want to kill?”

Not typical comments you would expect to hear at a pastor’s retreat. And yet, more (and worse) can be overheard late into the night as we gather in a large circle in the fireside room of the Chalet.

A highlight of our annual pastor’s retreat is the rousing games of Mafia that we play after the evening worship. Sometimes we play other games, but this one is my favorite. The quiet and the vocal, pastors and wives, pros and new initiates are invited, encouraged (and even coerced) to play.

Mafia is a group game invented by a psychology student from Russia in 1986. It’s a kind of role-playing murder/ mystery game. One website described it as “good for discussing topics such as lying, deception, trust, good versus evil, etc. or just for a fun time.” I’ve found that we just lie and deceive for the fun of it. A number of sites will give you some background, rules and variations for this game. (check here, and here, and here, and here.)

Briefly, this game involves assigning the parts of mafia, sheriffs, doctor and townspeople to the people sitting in a circle. Playing a number of rounds (divided into days/nights) the mafia kill off the good townspeople at night while the remaining folks investigate, accuse, and arrest their suspects. Some tender-hearted players arrest suspects; more cut-throat groups lynch them.

My favorite aspect of this game is that you get to know another side of people. As you conspire with another to kill some troublemaking townspeople, you’re drawn into an odd relationship.

Wikipedia gives a bit more history and variations of the game. Check it out. You might find a new pasttime!

It's All Fun and Games ...

We like to play games at our house. Especially in the winter. When they were really little, we played a game called "Animal Lotto" over and over and over again. "Go Fish" was another favorite.

As they got older, we started some big-kid games of Scrabble, Monopoly, Life and Sequence. I remember handicapping myself with shorter words and less money in order to keep the kids in the game. Now that the kids are all older, we've had thoughtful card games, clever board games, intense strategy games and somewhat raucous word games. I have a role-play, murder mystery games that I'm "dying" to play.

This Christmas one son gave his younger siblings the game Quelf. You need to have a bit of creative energy to play this interactive game. If you don't mind possibly wearing a bib or saying silly things, I recommend it.

The older kids also enjoyed a few hands of "Hearts at Gramma's house. Less raucous but just as fun.

A Christmas Gift for the Family

On the top of Faith's, Ryan's and Emma's Christmas list this year was a kitty. Earlier this fall, they had launched a campaign to convince their dad that a kitty would be a good idea for our family. We already have a 13 year old cat, Tumnus, who was born in our house. Though we love our cat,the kids wanted a little one.

I thought a kitty would be fun, but Dad was less convinced. However, after visiting a house with a fresh litter of kitties, he softened. It was actually more his idea than mine. On his return trip from picking up Megan from the airport, he stopped to pick up the cutest little black and gray tabby kitty I've seen. Fortunately for us, at 3 months old he was already litter trained and well-socialized. Though he was a barn cat, the original owners think he's part Maine Coon because of his coloring and the "M" on his forehead. (We've just discovered how huge these cats can get ... we may be in trouble!)

One of our biggest challenges was naming the kitty. We spent 3 days discussing, listing names and voting on our favorites. The kids's choices tended towards Narnia and Lord of the Rings options (with a few other literary choices thrown in.) Finally, we narrowed it down to 3: Gimli, Digory & Rilian. We sent Faith, Ryan and Emma off to another room to make the final decision. And they chose "Trumpkin."

Trumpkin has been in the family for over 2 weeks, and we're all in love. (well, everyone except Tumnus) He's really sweet and a bit on the tubby side. When you hold him, he goes limp and snuggles in like a rag doll. Like all kitties, he gets a bit rambunctious, but hasn't really been naughty or difficult. Tonight, he chased around the living room, with no particular purpose except to get from one place to another as fast as he could. Even Dad, the hardest to sell, pulls the kitty on his lap.

Book Report: Innocent Trator

Alison Weir is a biographer and historian who writes about Tudor and Elizabethan history. One reviewer wrote : "Alison Weir writes compellingly. Her art is such that the reader is swept along by the story, scarcely noticing how very complicated that story is." (The Literary Review) She's written non-fiction and historical fiction. She's considered a popular historian. In her own words:

History belongs to us all, and it can be accessed by us all. And if writing it in a way that is accessible and entertaining, as well as conscientiously researched, can be described as popular, then, yes, I am a popular historian, and am happy to be one. History is full of wonderful stories and amazing characters. I feel very privileged to be able to bring them to life in both my non-fiction books and my novels.

The most recent book by Ms. Weir that I've read is Innocent Traitor, the story of Lady Jane Grey. Written in a collective journal form, we start at Jane's birth and follow her path to the Tower of London and her death. Jane Grey's mother was the niece of Henry VIII putting her in line for the crown. After Henry VIII died, his son Edward became king. History records suggest that both Edward and Jane were born in the same month. Her mother, hoping to groom her as the next king's wife, was cruel, abusive and domineering. Jane took refuge in her books. She was one of the most educated women of her time. She studied Latin, Greek, Hebrew, contemporary languages and theology.

Innocent Traitor is Weir's first novel. She writes her story from the viewpoints of the key people in this saga. We hear from Jane's nurse, King Henry, her mother, Prince Edward, Mary the King's daughter, Elizabeth, and members of the King's privy council. As the story unwinds, Weir pulls us into some kind of relationship with this young lady who becomes a pawn for power-hungry parents and assorted nobility. By the end of the book, our heartstrings are wrapped around the almost 17 year old who becomes a political and religious martyr. (Wikipedia has a nice, short biography of this "Nine Days Queen.")

I have to be honest, though I was pulled into the story, I didn't like the writing style for this book. It's a cross between an omniscient view point and personal recollections. From my
perspective, it doesn't work too well. A four year old can't have the same kind of thought patterns as an uneducated cook.

That being said, I still like Alison Weir's writing and will continue to check out her books from the library.

Ultimate Frisbee

I love having people in my house. Even before we had children I had dreams of filling my home with lots of people. Having my tables full of happy, talkative people is a treat! Last month I was happy to host the Gustavus Adolphus College's Ultimate teams (men's & women's) who were in Northfield for the Exit 69 tournament. (This is the exit off the interstate for our fair city.)

Ultimate (officially dropping the "Frisbee" part of the name for copywrite reasons), a seeming cross between rugby and soccer, was proposed by Joel Silver as a joke to his Student Council in a small school in New Jersey in 1967. Little did he know that over 40 years later it would exceed it's "after school, pick up game" status and become an internationally played sport with college and city leagues all over the country. (Wikipedia and The Ultimate Handbook sites have lots of good information on the sport.)



Ultimate players are a fun group of kids. They seem to be a pretty free-spirited and independent group. While they enjoy playing a team sport,they're not overly competitive or as structured as "official" collegiate sports. During the frisbee match itself, the players rule themselves. Rather than engage a referee they collaboratively keep the game fair.


Following is exerpted from a listing of rules of the game in the section titled, "Spirit of the Game:"

Ultimate has traditionally relied upon a spirit of sportsmanship
which places the responsibility for fair play on the
player. Highly competitive play is encouraged, but never at the
expense of the bond of mutual respect between players, adherence
to the agreed upon rules of the game, or the basic joy of play.
Protection of these vital elements serves to eliminate adverse
conduct from the Ultimate field. Such actions as taunting of
opposing players, dangerous aggression, intentional fouling, or other "win-at-all-costs" behavior are contrary to the spirit of the game and must be avoided by all players.


By the time the team gets to my house, they've played a number of games and are hot and tired (or chilled and tired, depending on the weather). The past two years have been cold and rainy; a warm house, hot showers and comfort food "hit the spot." I had 2 huge pots of soup, fresh bread and salad ready for them. As a team, they assigned freshman to help with clean up (if only they knew how much I had done before they even arrived!)







When my other son's team from Lawrence University came two and three years ago, they hunkered down for the evening all over the house. Some studied, some played poker using little kids' toys for chips, a few messed around on the piano, and a handful fell asleep on various couches. My younger children watched and were intrigued by this kind of young adult "slumber party." Most of the Gustavus crew preferred tents and campfires at a nearby county park.

On Sunday afternoon I was able to catch some of my son's game. They're a great group and I look forward to next year's tournament.

Pickled Beets

This year my garden blessed me with a hefty crop of beets. Unfortunately, my family is not too crazy about beets. I tried adding them to a grilled mixture of vegetables (potatoes, rutabaga, carrots and onions). Not a winner. I cooked a small amount and served it as a side dish. Another loser. I briefly toyed with cooking up a big pot of borscht but knew my family wouldn't go for that either.

What is it about beets that is so troublesome for the kids? I wonder if the bright red-purple color leads them to think that it will have a sweet candy flavor. Possibly the disappointment is too great.

My solution? Pickled beets! My grandmother, Olina Tamina Thompson Olson, used to can quart after quart of these sweet, red pickles and I loved them. (My sister reminds me that she definitely didn't.) That sweet/sour/spicy flavor always makes me think of Grandma's house. Going down into her cellar-like basement to retrieve a quart for our "light supper" was always a bit of an adventure.

I haven't made pickles since helping my mother almost 30 years ago. What did I have to lose? It's not like my family was carefully guarding my harvest of beets, making sure I didn't make any mistakes. (they probably were hoping that this would turn out badly and end up in the compost heap and not on the dinner table.)

Here's the recipe that I found on-line. I added shelled, hard-boiled eggs as per the recipe. I thought they looked kind of cool arranged on the plate. My husband's comment: "Now this is weird."