My day off....

Yesterday I took my first official vacation day from work...

I found myself trekking 3 hours to my 91 year old Great Uncle's funeral on the Iron Range in Northern MN. There's a bridge in Cloquet that spans a wide river, next to the bridge is a gas station that was built by Frank Lloyd Wright, once you cross the bridge, you are entering a whole new world.

I knew I was in an alternate universe when I saw Willie Nelson's doppelganger on the side of the road. It was hard to miss the only human walking down a desolate stretch of country road on a bitterly cold day, especially one clad in a red bandanna and leather vest. I wondered what Willie Nelson was up to, until he stuck his thumb up in the air. I can't remember the last time I saw a hitchhiker, let alone one that looks like Willie Nelson. Does this method of transportation work in this day and age? Is there anyone that would dare pick up a hitchhiker in the middle of nowhere? My mom and I did not pick up Willie Nelson. Sorry Willie!

My Uncle Ed lived a long and fulfilled life as a community leader, farmer, teacher and humorist. He was even sure to write a limerick as to how he would like to be remembered, because he saw the last of his days coming for 10 years now. The end of his limerick encouraged us to disperse and celebrate.

And we celebrated in true Lutheran fashion. Anyone who's ever thought the Church Basement Ladies was an exaggeration needs to head up to the range to witness the spread of food I saw yesterday. Never before in my life have I had more options when it came to hot dish and jello salad. Oh... and to top it all off... there was a separate "dessert" tables piled with bars and bundt cake. Now, I was a little confused as to why the jello salad was not on the dessert table, but I decided to overlook the disparity as I plopped some green jello next to some red jello.

As I enjoyed my hot dishes and jello salads, I watched the church ladies replenish the never ending supply of food and hustle plates from tables faster than any buser I've ever seen. These women were amazing... and I bet that if they wanted to, they could operate a pretty successful restaurant in their free time. They even had a woman named Ena acting as the church barista by ensuring that there was always a full cup of coffee ready to drink.

I caught up with my cousin Bryan who is teaching English in South Africa and I guess when you are a tall Caucasian male with long-ish wavy hair you attract some attention there. When he goes out for runs the villagers shout out funny things to him. They ask him "What is your kind?" "What species are you?" but probably the best thing they ask his is "What is your staple food?" Now he never really knew how to answer that. Really, what is our staple food in America? Sometimes he would respond with "pizza" or "hamburger," but upon feasting at Uncle Ed's funeral he can now proudly respond with "hot dish" or "jello salad."

Bryan and I both agreed that there was one thing missing from the food menu... squeaky cheese... which if you've never had this cheesy delight... I highly recommend you try it!

Squeaky cheese or not, it was a nice funeral service and it gave me a chance to catch up with some of my family and honor my uncle Ed, the last remaining Finn in my family.