Lutheran Sunday

The Lutherans meet at 9:00 Sunday morning. It is summer and there is only one service under the assumption that half the congregation will not be there due to prior engagements with their gardens or fishing boats.  Pastor greets us at the door then begins the service with a few announcements. These are short because it's summer time and there happen to be no weddings or funerals in town. We stand for the opening hymn and wait for the the first bars on the organ. Nothing. As the wait grows I search up front for what might be the problem with the organ. The organist has left her spot up beside the altar and must be making her way up to the old instrument in the organ loft at back. I remember now that there was some reluctance on the part of the pianists about playing the new instrument up front where they were in full view of the congregation. So this led them to make a trek down behind the altar, through the Sunday School building or the basement kitchens, then climbing the stairs at the rear to play the first hymn. And the congregation patiently waited... and waited. After what seemed like a full 10 minutes, the familiar tune breathed out above our heads. She had made it.

Everyone knows the order of service by heart, but that doesn't prevent the out of the ordinary. A tall man suddenly jumped up out of his pew with a loud, "SON OF A GUN!" The congregation burst our laughing, obviously in on the joke. He had forgotten that it was his Sunday to do the readings. He enjoyed the hilarity of the situation, apologized and made his way up to the lectern. The chuckles died down as he began to read from the New Testament.
Pastor's sermon was short and to the point with several stories of dogs and people, he refused to name, who had strayed and got themselves into silly but poignant situations.

During the last hymn I noticed my mother-in-law slip out to make the coffee. I decided to go also and offer help. When I got to the kitchens I found that five other relatives had had the same idea and there wasn't much to do except help ourselves to rolls.  Guiltily, we ate in full view of the congregation waiting in line up the basement steps. Would they think we had snuck out early to make sure we got first pick of the donuts? But no one gave us the stink-eye and we sat together and caught up on comings and goings over coffee.
I came across a Lutheran cookbook in my cupboard and an interesting recipe caught my eye, contributed by Selma S. There is no date, but I would guess Selma is long gone. Here is the recipe for Scripture Cake :

1 c. Judges 5:25              1 c Numbers 17:8

1 c. Judges 4:19              1 tsp. Matthew 13:3

2 c. Jeremiah 6:20           3 1/2 c. I Kings 4:22

2 c. Nahum 3:12              6 Isaiah 10:14

6 tbsp. Exodus 16:31       2 c. I Samuel 30:12

Pinch of Leviticus 2:13   2 tsp. Amos 4:5

I Kings 10:2 to taste

Follow Solomon's advice (Proverbs 23:13) for making good boys and you'll have a good cake. 

I could end with this delightfully silly recipe. Especially since the 'Judges' references are to a story of a woman who hammers a tent stake through an enemy's head while he sleeps in her tent! And, of course, Solomon's advice is to beat with a rod.  Enough said... much is assumed in the Lutheran Church, and much of humanity is quietly understood. This leads to acceptance of all, despite their foibles.  There is thoughtfulness and care within the community, and a good sense of humor to make us all feel "OK". 

The Real World

"It's a magical world, Hobbes, ol'buddy... Let's go exploring."  

(16 things Calvin and Hobbes said better than anyone else)

I recently moved back to the US and was immediately drawn into concerns over housing, the job market and future investments. Whenever I tried to discuss this I met the response, "Welcome back to the real world." This surprised me, the fact that some people refer to the US as the "real world", but now I am starting to see their point of view. 

To some it may seem like I have been off on a long vacation. It is true that I spent 8 years on an island resembling a Club Med resort, and my photos of our life there must have given the impression we led a carefree life without bills or traffic. Our housing was provided, and someone else maintained our appliances. We had no car or cell phone. But were we living in a fairy tale? No, we still had to work, and deal with the isolation and shortages that can only really be experienced on a minute island in the middle of the Pacific. I can see it wasn't how most people would describe their lives. Maybe it wasn't the real world... and like Peter Pan it was more of an escape from real life.

It is also true that I was able to travel to places that seem more like an adventure than a holiday. I was exploring what I considered the "real world" out there, going where many had gone before me. These trips were exciting but they were still to tourist destinations, and so didn't really count as the real world to those going through their daily grind back home. Being a teacher I have more vacation days, and I know some consider that I barely work. The money that they are investing in their homes, cars and children's education I am spending on travel. That is not reality for most people in the US, and like Peter Pan it is time I grew up and starting paying the bills... or whatever else grown ups pay for.

In fact, the US is not the real world, it is the first world. And it is true that when I am out of the US I can avoid or even ignore some of those first world problems if I choose to. I still own a home, pay taxes, drive myself, and make sure my children's needs are met. However, when I am overseas, in the third world, or even Europe, I choose to focus on other things. There are some things you can't ignore when traveling or living in Brazil. Their culture, values and own set of problems just scream out to be noticed. So does the country's natural beauty. I take it all in, record it and count it as real world experience. 

So I return to the US, not seeking to settle into a life that is more real, or like everyone else's. Yes, I will have to deal with some different challenges and pay a few more bills. And at first it will feel like growing up, or being forced to give up the dream of childhood adventure. But there is still a magical world out there to explore, even if it is only a state away, or in my back yard. 

Playing With Tradition

The Jahnkes have been congregating on July 4th at Crick and Anna's lake home for 40 years. Children have become parents and parents are now grandparents. It is never the same group. Each year there is a new addition, and there are family members who are there now only in memories. The definition of life is change: new births and new pets, then divorce and new boyfriends,  changes in jobs and health... yet the tradition of the family get together remains the same year after year.

We don't meet there every year because it is easy and harmonious. First there is the problem of where everyone will stay. The family has outgrown the house inherited by the city cousins. So the country cousins bring and set up their campers and tents. The set up is always an ordeal as we position and re position each trailer amid curses from the swarms of mosquitoes and missing electrical cords.
Then there is the problem of the dogs brought by, funnily enough, the city cousins. Five dogs are let loose to run around with the neighbor's two. That would be the neighbor to the south. The neighbor to the north does not approve of our dogs and is likely to call the police if they are found doing their business on his lawn. So that leads to the constant inquiry, "Has anyone seen my dog?" and "Why doesn't so-and-so watch their dog?" Yet the dogs have free roam. They are in and out of the house, in and out of the water and in and out of the neighbor's yard.
As the children grow up their toys change, get bigger and need constant attention. There are six different boats that all have to be hauled out of the water, cleaned and stored. The motors are constantly being worked on and each day they are driven to town to be gassed up.

 'Old Blue' makes it out on the water every year and has outlasted all others. She pulls tiny tubers, first time boarders and veteran skiers. Every year there is talk of replacing her, but someone always finds a way to keep her afloat.  Old Blue keeps being a part of the tradition of the 4th because she provides something that everyone and all ages can enjoy.
And that is the key to maintaining tradition. Traditions only survive as long as they provide meaning and purpose, in different ways, to all those who partake.

I pondered this while playing a game of marbles on Anna and Crick's old deck. I believe this game is as old as the house, and was one of Anna's favorites, not because it is challenging, but because it is engaging. Anyone can play at any age and at any level. Newcomers can beat old-hats. Stepsons can beat grandparents. Just roll the dice and off you go. The deck itself is old and needs to be replaced. It still stands because it provides a place for each of us to be individuals, yet part of a family. It is a quiet spot for that first cup of coffee with the best view on the lake. It has been used to grill up the bacon and eggs for breakfast.

Grandparents can sit up there and watch the children play on the grass below, or water-ski by.  It is where the mothers sit for an afternoon glass of wine while their children nap or go fishing. A 'child-gate' has been added to keep out the dogs (no ones cares if its kept shut), and a new sliding screen door has been installed (not well received), but the old deck still stands with its decaying and unsafe boards, to carry on the various activities of the individuals in the group.
The holiday itself adapts to allow for individual differences.

We no longer shoot off fireworks due to the neighbor-to-the-north's slightly singed boat cover. We no longer try to keep track of each family member's arrival and departure. People come and go according their own schedules, bringing whoever they can with them. We play musical beds in order to accommodate 35 people over a period of 7 days. If the weather turns bad there are people in the furnace room, garage and on the living room floor. We no longer try to feed everyone the traditional barbecue as many are now vegetarians. The steaks have been replaced by grilled corn and outings to the farmer's market for new ingredients. The refrigerator is always full and people help themselves.

Fourth of July at the lake is always full of food, activities, people and animals. And the family welcomes all who come with the freedom to choose how you want to spend your holiday.  We usually end up choosing to spend it together... that is the power of the freedom of choice.

Touring Colleges for... Fun?

It's that time of year again. Our youngest son will be a senior so we are going round colleges in Minnesota, touring some for the third time. I didn't expect to learn anything new, but was curious to see how each school would sell itself to us, and what might catch my son's eye.
I have no doubt that each college will provide an excellent education, and all their fees are similarly out of reach, but each's presentation was quite different; they were distinguishing themselves in different ways.

At college #1 we were welcomed by their mascot, and asked to pose for a picture before being treated to coffee and rolls. Much of the presentation was student led, not always the most polished, with huge emphasis on all the extra activities they were involved in on campus. We were also given free lunch tickets, allowing us to dine with the hoards of school children taking part in tennis, basketball and swim camps. There was so much going on, and their message was that any student here leads a full, fun-packed student life... or at the very least you will be getting your money's worth, all $55,000!
Feeling slightly full, of fun and free food, we left the friendly lion behind and went on to visit college #2.  This campus reeked of prestige, and money. We walked through quiet landscaped grounds with wandering paths past shady benches. Although we were told there were camps going on, we didn't see any students, and were not invited to eat at the cafeteria.  Instead we toured the chapel and large sports complex before being seated together in an auditorium. I was expecting a talk on financial aide, but got instead a bizarre 45 minute lecture on neuroscience and addiction. I am sure all of the visiting families were wondering "why?" and most wanted to walk out, but were too polite to.

 This confusing presentation was supposed to give us a 'classroom experience'. Unfortunately it was over our heads, and not at all appropriate for a visiting student or their parents. But it helped to reinforce the school's image of being academically proud... meaning that you should feel lucky to be accepted here, and feel lucky enough to pay $55,000! Here you will be among the brightest and the best, and the most affluent. So we loaded up with more free snacks, found we couldn't afford anything in the gift shop even with our 20% off coupon, and headed off to college #3.

It was immediately obvious that this school was cheaper and more 'low key'. There was no coffee or snacks provided as a welcome. I felt our tour guide could have done with some coffee, as he was so laid back not even our constant teasing about the lame college mascot phased him. Then we sat down to hear the prepared presentation. As an educator I finally heard what I was hoping to hear. Staff dressed in matching polo shirts described what and how students learn through their variety of courses, teaching methods and opportunities in and outside the classroom. The emphasis here was on students being able to choose to study what they were passionate about, and experiment in areas they had never tried before. And the school was set up to make each student succeed, and with this academic success there would come confidence and a feeling of achievement to carry them through the tough times.

 I left on a high, realizing that if I was to choose a school, it would be that one. My son, however, was not impressed. "They didn't have a climbing wall," was his take on it. The rest of my party were similarly unimpressed with the slightly industrial buildings and the lack of free coffee. It made me want to say, "Can't we just cut the crap, and talk about education?"
Obviously not.  The easy answer to my question is, "You can just talk education if you want, but you will be talking to yourself."

All educational institutions these days have more than one agenda. Apart from creating an environment that inspires learning, they must find some other way to distinguish themselves in order to survive. College #1 was full of sports and extra curricular activities, good food and friendly staff. College #2 was working on its high and mighty image, and it had a rock wall! It prided itself in having the best music program, facilities and suggested you could climb higher here than at other schools. College #3 had a subdued confidence in its ability to inspire learning and... oh, not much else. And that is why my son won't be choosing #3.
Right now my youngest is in doubt as to where, or if, he will be attending school in the fall of 2018. If he does, I have a feeling it will have a rock wall, good food and a nice dorm. It won't really matter in the end, as long as he has taken the time to figure that out for himself.
One thing I figured out is what he is looking for and what his parents are looking for. If it were us, I would have re-titled this blog, "Touring Colleges for... Free Food?"

Angels' Share

Of all the distilleries in Scotland, we ended up at a brand new facility on a rainy afternoon and took a tour just to pass the time. Whisky is most certainly Scotch, but I found myself wondering why. Why did the brewing company choose this isolated spot we only found by accident on a winding one-track lane leading to a remote outcrop of rock on the eastern coast of the Scottish Highlands? They could have chosen Glasgow, southern England or even California. I was soon to find out how this unique spot is perfect for whisky making.

We entered a large dirt-floor warehouse filled with wooden barrels at the beginning of the tour, and I was shocked to see mold growing up the walls and across the roofing. Our guide immediately addressed this by explaining "angels' share" as the portion of spirits that is lost to evaporation each year, given, you might say, to the angels. There is a fungus that feeds on this and is a good indication that the environment is cool and humid enough for the proper storage of the aging whisky. Hotter and drier climates promote too much evaporation, or loss of alcohol. The Scottish Highlands, with their year round cool and rainy climate, are perfect for maturing distilled spirits in oak barrels over a period of 10 years.

Whisky starts off as beer, brewed from barley which is grown locally. The grain goes through a drying process, heated by the burning of peat. Peat produces a different flavor than wood, and at one time was the only fuel available in the Highlands.
The barley is mixed with water to create a wash. More water is needed for the fermentation and distilling process. And I am witness to the abundance of water in the Highlands. Scotland is the wateriest place I've been. There will never be a water shortage here.

I was starting to understand why the owners of this distillery made the effort to bring in vats, limited in size only by the size of the country roads they would need to be transported on, to this beautifully remote spot. The conditions were perfect, both in climate and natural resources. The plant has added some new features to the old process by recycling its water and barley waste. They differ from the American bourbon by allowing the use of recycled sherry casks that produce a unique flavor.
We couldn't taste the finished product at the end of our tour, because the plant had not been in operation long enough to produce aged whisky.  I was content to quiz our guide for as much information as possible. He was proud to explain the features that distinguish Scottish whisky from whiskey made elsewhere. He explained the process that creates blended malts and why single malts are so valuable.
As well as adding "angels' share" to my vocabulary, I learned the origin on the derogatory phrase, "Shut your bung hole." The bung hole is the hole in the barrels through which it is filled and then corked with sacking and a wooden plug.

It took me years before I was ready to vacation in Scotland. I did not look forward to days of rain and difficult driving conditions. I chose instead sunshine and warm water. Now I wonder why it took me so long. I probably had to age and mature, just like a good Scotch, in order to appreciate the beauty and ruggedness of the hills.
I love the idea of sharing the goodness with angels. After all, all this natural beauty is a gift from above, and acknowledging that is a way of paying tribute. Let's give praise where praise is due and realize that it is Scotland that makes Scotch great.