Friday, December 11, 2015

Ohana time

I've always found living far away from family to be difficult. When we left Indiana 15 years ago, I knew Grandma, who had Alzheimer's, would not remember me by the time I came back to visit. I knew cousins would grow up, weddings would happen and babies would be born while I'd be watching it on a computer screen from thousands of miles away. Then I married Chris and gained another entire family, just as fantastic as the one I already had, but also thousands of miles in the distance.

I'm so grateful we were able to take an extended trip this fall to not only help out with some projects there, but just to be there for the everyday life that we miss out on. I believe strongly that people work too much, and that if given the option, it's worth sacrificing some of our material wealth for time. Time for popping popcorn and watching a movie. Time for helping parents store up winter firewood. Time for taking a break from that firewood cutting to give kids rides in trailers. Time just to live and enjoy life. Time for prayer and getting closer to our Creator, knowing this discontentment I feel is simply a longing for permanence God put in my heart so that I'll look forward to heaven.

Grandma watches the kids every Thursday

A really fun dinner

Jaspers gather at the end of a great party


Family members wears sweaters, all handcrafted by my mom
 


"Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten" reads the artwork my niece, Lydia, made me. Before the recent trip, I hadn't seen her since she visited almost eight years ago while I was preparing for my wedding.

Monday, December 07, 2015

Give it a good, strong push

I've purposely left some details out of this post because I don't think OSHA would approve of a tugboat captain letting us join him for a day on the job. We stayed right on the Mississippi River in Minnesota for several weeks and saw many tugs pushing grain, salt, gravel and empty barges up and down the river. Industry in action. Something we see very little of in Hawaii.

The skill of the boat captain was apparent as he shuffled barges around the river and swapped them out until he had the desired load all chained up and ready. We even had a chance to drive. Needless to say, it was the largest object I have ever had control of. I learned you have to start steering around bends early to keep the ship in the channel where the river is deep. The river's current pushes hard and with the barges, the ship is quite long. The captain had us pass very close to the buoys marking the channel and with all those barges out in front, it felt like each buoy was a mile away and you'd hit it for sure.

We learned how incredibly efficient this shipping method is. It takes very little fuel to push several train loads of product up the river. Since upstream locks were closed to prevent the spread of Asian carp, several thousand extra trucks are on the road every day to carry cargo north that used to be pushed up by the tugs.

What a great day we had. It was refreshing to see someone who loves his job, is good at it and is doing something productive and tangible. I feel lucky to have experienced that.

Here is a vide of Chris driving the tug: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIcvSt0z71U



Chris inspects the engine

A tug heads down the river

I try my skills at steering the gigantic barges through the channel

Friday, December 04, 2015

The great gathering

"Minnesota, Minnesota, we are south of Manitoba, we are east of North Dakota we've got something really rare," goes the jingle advertising the Minnesota state fair. This is one of Chris' fondest childhood memories he shared with me in September. Growing up, all six kids would pile into the station wagon and spend the entire day at the fair.

 More than a million people attend each year and it is really done up big. Since the fair is all about food, I'll tell you what we at: fried alligator, buffalo kabobs, local cheese, fresh apple cider and fried smelt. All my life I've wanted to try smelt, a tiny fish caught in nets each spring in the Great Lakes, and it didn't disappoint.

We watched skateboarders and BMX bikes in a half pipe, watch horse riders compete, Irish dancers, drove a Harley Davidson, listened to the gigantic Golden Gophers marching band and learned all about how beer is brewed. There were odd products for sale, performances, parades and people everywhere - they were all Minnesota nice people. If you have the chance, hit up the Minnesota state fair.
People stand in line to buy buckets of cookies

A giant Hereford takes a ride in a parade

A few other people came to the fair that day

Giant pumpkins

Some pig

The little cart that could

I'll never buy a ATV or Gator unless I end up on a farm where serious four-wheel drive is required. The Jaspers have a golf cart that is tougher than nails and rides like a Cadillac. It's a better all-purpose vehicle than just about anything you can find on a car lot with much better fuel economy. We pulled a heavy metal trailer piled 20 feet high with branches uphill on a gravel road, gave kids joy rides in the trailer and rode around after dinner just to cool off. We watched and marveled when Dave and his buddy pulled a trailer full of huge logs too heavy for me to lift along a bumpy, skinny trail through dense forest. The cart made it. When the trailer was too wide, a chainsaw was produced and more firewood was added to the pile. We dragged whole blue spruce trees chained to the cart, saved our tired legs trips to the mailbox and hauled tools. Many a grandkid have first sat behind the wheel of this golf cart.

The cart is comfortable and seats four (unlike an ATV), runs quiet, and doesn't need to be started. It's the ever-ready, can-do, all purpose cart that obviously I feel a little attachment to.
Don't underestimate this little red cart, it's eager to pull the trailer full of branches that Chris is piling on

Feeling Fall

This post is going to be mostly photos. Chris and I spent almost six weeks in Minnesota, from early September when we were sweating at the state fair to mid October when it was getting down into the 40s overnight, Chris was cutting firewood in a Carhart jacket and we were wading in leaves. It was the first time I have truly experienced a full season change in 15 years and it felt amazing. Though, it's odd that since returning to Hawaii, it's been harder than usual to track which season it is. I can't remember whether it's summer or winter until I stop to think about it.
Chris was so natural paddling the canoe and exploring islands in the Mississippi River

We don't usually get to wear sweaters and get cozy by the fireplace

Fall means squirrel season

Sun shines through the forest after a pre-dawn rain

My father-in-law has painted this tree more than once

Golden leaves

Some firewood cut for the boiler