Yes, he is

Al's favorite flavor revealed on the Jerdee blog, linked at left. (Photo by Becky Jerdee)

Spring word pictures

Our friend Lorlee lived on a family farm near us in Alexandria. She loves to garden. Now she lives in Dallas, so spring comes earlier. She must be restless right now.
There was a gardening website that had a contest for stories of 100 words --- Lorlee submitted the following two.
"I didn't win the garden book they were giving away," she shrugs. "Mine are more memory photos than stories. People keep telling me to write a book -- but all I have in me are 100 word snippets."

Dad
Dad almost skipped a once in a lifetime trip to Switzerland because it would interfere with the planting of his spring garden. In his farmer's soul, he knew that we are given a finite number of springs – and once a spring is gone, it and its potential can’t be reclaimed. And though, like those springs, he is gone, that wisdom and urgency live on in me. As the springs flit by, I do my best to make each one count. I do it for me – I do it in his memory. And in my mind’s eye, I see him smile.

Grandma Klimek
She unlaced her black heeled shoes, took them off and lined them up perfectly beside her bed. It was the kind of footwear worn by grandmothers in the 50’s and nuns when they still wore habits. She went out the side screen door – used only when the weather was finally warm, past the small coop with the mother duck and her babies, headed toward her garden with its abundant vegetables – and one riotous row of zinnias. The black soil was warm under her bunioned bare feet, the ropey, varicose veins evident below her dress and old fashioned apron. Women of that age and time never wore pants or garden clogs.

Family Coat of Arms

Between rounds of his recent golf and whisky trip to Scotland, Stan was able to research the family tree at genealogical record centers in Edinburgh, St. Andrews and Aberdeen, tracing the lineage of Peter Jackson, the great-great grandfather of Beverly Rolfsrud.
Confirmation was received yesterday that Jackson, who immigrated to New York in 1859, was actually the bastard son of Sir George McDonald and Victoria Walpole, and then was adopted and given his Christian name by Adam and Maybelle Jackson. This discovery makes Beverly's children the rightful heirs to the Royal Bank of Scotland and confers upon her eldest son, by right of primogeniture, the title "Duke of Forada."

Next stop, IKEA

Looking for a white, 16-inch wide cabinet, with four drawers, two shelves, for immediate installation in the new and improved master closet. Will be heading to IKEA this afternoon, now that the blizzard has changed its mind about paralyzing I-494 again. Anybody care to join us there for Swedish meatballs? Also need to find some white vinyl wallpaper from one of those Menardish bargain boxes to hang in the closet. Seen any?
Mudding and taping going well, hung the door frame this morning. Homemade dentil moulding applied shortly.

Big news from Cousin Arnold: His famous daughter, Erika Rolfsrud, is the understudy for Susan Sarandon on a new Broadway production. We'll post details soon. Erika got rave reviews in St. Louis, says he.

Ford has gas problem

Saturday plans changed abruptly when Ford and Jenn sniffed what could have been a gas leak in their Eden Prairie townhome.

Getting out of town isn't as simple as it used to be, but the resourceful couple threw together about 50 pounds of infant logistical support materials, packaged the baby and dashed off to Shakopee. Even so, they would still come up two diapers short.

Meanwhile, Grandma and Grandpa, heading from Mankato to Eden Prairie to deliver a van full of dry goods to brother Virgil's house, were diverted to Shakopee.

There a good time was had by all, as two-month-old Kaia made her first ever appearance at her great aunt and uncle's house.

Her rock star hairdo was the center of attention.

Steve finally delivered Kathleen's prize coffee measuring scoop she had sadly left behind in Tucson and dearly missed, along with a couple of winter coats.

And Jenn finally had a chance to open Sosie and Bill's baby gift bag, carried by Stan and Kathleen all the way from Arizona to Shakopee, but never quite as far as Eden Prairie. Jenn and Ford were delighted with the assorted onesies from California.

All this give and take, and Kathleen's dessert too, tuckered out the new Dad and the baby. So, after learning that workmen had finally relieved his gas problem, Ford grabbed a nap on Stan's couch.

And despite being bounced from lap to adoring lap, Kaia, herself, managed a little snoozle.

Here Bubbles, here Bubbles??

Laurie and Stan worked together for 30 years at the newspaper company. He's retired, she still faces the challenges of managing a business in today's tough climate, and now they're just "friends forever."

Last night Kathleen whipped up a roast beef dinner for the three of us, topped off with strawberries on cake. Lots to talk about, including Laurie's upcoming holiday in Utah, 401(k)s, the closet extension project in our master bedroom (below), and all the possible names for a new puppy.

This latter topic has particular importance, as Laurie has historically served as "substitute Mom" for our dogs when we're vacationing.

A Family Vacation

In an unparalleled act of courage and grace, Linda and Ron Letnes this month packed up an SUV full of Colorado grandchildren and headed out for a Big West adventure. It all went very well, Stan's sister Linda now reports. The retired schoolteacher is back in Minnesota awaiting the arrival of another grandbaby.

Here's her note and photos from the Family Vacation.

-------------------------

Dear Stan,

As I had mentioned before, we were met with big smiles and hugs when we arrived in Fort Collins on the 16th. Right on schedule, the next morning, we piled into the Expedition with its eight seatbelts for the eight of us.

Our first stop was in Vail where the sculptures captured our attention. We spent each night in a motel with a swimming pool as we discovered the kids would swim day or night. Besides the pools, the kids had a ball in Pagosa Springs in the hot springs . Memmo and Antonio are pictured in the shower there.

Arches National Park was followed by Canyonlands National Park, both in Utah. Lots of short hikes, but the Rimwalk in Canyonlands was the hands down favorite of the Huertas. By the time we had gotten to Durango on our drive back to Fort Collins, the Huertas were planning their next family trip...Mesa Verde National Park. They will do that one on their own.

Everywhere we went the whole family was interested in the displays, the walks, films, you name it. The word bored wasn't part of the vocabulary, never heard it. We stopped in Fairplay for a visit with Prunes, a mining burro, and then headed for the Colorado Historical Museum in downtown Denver. That held their interest for hours while Ron and I looked up old friends.

There was a glorious reunion with their pets when we returned to Fort Collins. We have taken the kids to Disneyland, Disney World, the Pacific Ocean, the Gulf of Mexico and multiple trips between MN and CO. They have loved these trips and rarely caused a moment of trouble as they are great travelers. But this is the trip that each child quietly confessed was the absolute best and for the same reason: " Our whole family is here." Made the whole thing awfully special.

I wondered how it would be with eight of us, most of our trips are with two kids at a time. Before we left I picked up $100 in one dollar bills. Each morning the kids were doled out $5 with the admonition that any adult could ask them to return a dollar to Grandma for any infraction deemed worthy of a dollar. The best behaved child would get the pot at the end of the trip. Amazingly, only $10 was collected over the tour. Nina was our winner. The weather was perfect, yes, 70's.

We travel well together and are planning another spring break, next time a drive through Monument Valley and a visit to the Grand Canyon.

Corey and Alyssa are the parents of Nina, 13; Emillio, 12; Antonio, who turned 11 on the trip and wore his "Utah Rocks" birthday sweatshirt constantly; Memmo, 9.

We are back in Minneapolis awaiting Anja's new baby sister who can arrive tonight or in the next few weeks. The only thing we know is that her middle name will be Letnes as Anja's is. Life is precious and good.

Love, Linda

Nice, but the association dues will kill you. . .

In our continuing search for a suitable retirement estate, Fyvie Castle near Turriff in Aberdeenshire, Scotland, was briefly considered. However, Kathleen is still thinking Highland Park in St. Paul.
The earliest parts of Fyvie Castle date from the 13th century - some sources claim it was built in 1211 by William the Lion. Fyvie was the site of an open-air court held by Robert the Bruce, and Charles I lived there as a child. Following the Battle of Otterburn in 1390, it ceased to be a royal stronghold and instead fell into the possession of five successive families - Preston, Meldrum, Seton, Gordon and Leith - each of whom added a new tower to the castle.

Unfortunately, none of these families were related to the Riccorton Jacksons, Stan's maternal forebears.
Inside, the castle stronghold features a great wheel stair, a display of original arms and armour, and a particularly fine collection of portraits.
Manus O'Cahan and Montrose fought a successful minor battle against the Covenant Army at Fyvie Castle on October 28th, 1644. Following Victorian trends, the grounds and adjoining Loch Fyvie were landscaped in the 19th century. The American industrialist Alexander Leith bought the castle in 1885. It was sold to the National Trust for Scotland in 1984 by his descendants.
The castle (like many others) is said to be haunted. During renovation work in 1920 the skeleton of a woman was discovered behind a bedroom wall. On the day the remains were laid to rest in Fyvie cemetery, the castle residents started to be plagued by strange noises and unexplained happenings. Fearing he had offended the dead woman, the Laird of the castle had the skeleton exhumed and replaced behind the bedroom wall, at which time the haunting ceased.

We survived, Gerry.

Nobody got stewed in the Aberlour mash. We got this kind note from Gerry Harris today. We featured him a couple days ago on this blog. (See below) He's the owner of the Mail Boxes Etc. store in St. Andrews, Scotland.

-------------------------

Stan,

Great to hear from you!
I'm glad that you made it home in one piece! I wasn't certain that you'd survive the distillery visit intact, especially if you'd given the locals a dose of your Scot's treachery theory. I had visions of you floating upside down in a vat of whisky, the unlucky victim of the murderous nature of us Scots!
I followed your blog link and was shocked to see a wanted poster with my face on it. Then I read the text and relaxed. You have overstated dramatically my service to you and the guys and I thank you for it! It was wonderful to see that you had enjoyed yourself sufficiently to insert us into your family's blog!

Then I remembered, you're a "writer" and now I have you tagged.....you do fiction!
I think you have the most professional blog that I have seen for some considerable time. I hope that all your readers enjoy it as much as I do. I'll look back in from time to time to see how my friend Stan is doing.

If you have any other travel plans, you might want to let me know in advance so that I can warn the tourist information ministry in advance to be ready for the onslaught of "'horror stories' on yer blog!"
Keep well, my friend, and put up your feet after all those exertions here in Bonnie Scotland!
Best wishes.
Gerry