Field Trip to the Capitol

We walked into the Minnesota Capitol on a hushed morning in February.
It was the perfect time to go.
The politicians don't arrive till the end of the month.
From June until next January, the entire building will be shut down for repairs.
As it was, we drove up the Hill with the back of the building on our left,
and its backside is covered, sealed, in white plastic.
Artisans and photographers and tour guides were the only ones there.
And a small group ahead of us.
And we four.

Nate has not had much work since Christmas.
Stressful, yes, and not as relaxing as one might think.
But things appear to be looking up, work starts tomorrow,
and we decided to get out of the house on this fine sunny day.

Here is what I knew about the Capitol:
It was designed by Cass Gilbert.

Here is what I did not know:
It was built when Minnesota had been a state for only 37 years (begun in 1898, completed in 1905).
It is a Civil War Memorial.
Cass Gilbert designed not only the building, but also the decorations (furniture, lighting,
and commissioning of artwork).

The golden sculpture at the base of the Dome is called "The Progress of the State,"
but is commonly known as the Quadriga.

Babyface and one of the spectacular hallway ceilings.
 

This window is in the ceiling of (I think) the Chamber of the House of Representatives.
All around, in every grand Chamber and in each hallway, are words (in both Latin and English),
quotes that extoll government and law.
I guess the words didn't impress me much.
I kept thinking of the terrible shouting matches that have taken place here,
and how many times "my side" has lost. 

Malachi was all for running around and climbing stairs.
The stairs are shallow and wide,
so he was thrown off his normal crawling pattern. 

With my baby in the Rotunda,
next to one of Cass Gilbert's lamps.
Malachi is looking up,
which is always the right thing to do,
whether we are in the middle of a long winter,
or mired in our own particular sorrow,
or simply unsure of our next step.

The building was so beautiful, so complete, so authentic,
that as we wandered its hallways,
I wasn't as burdened by thoughts of Rome
(and its inevitable fall)
as I thought I would be.

I'll leave you with a glimpse of heaven,
where the Designer is perfect,
judgement is merciful,
the halls ring with music,
and nothing, nothing,
separates us from perfect joy.

"I did not see a temple in the city,
because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb
are its temple.
The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it,
for the Glory of God gives it light,
and the Lamb is its lamp.
The nations will walk by its light,
and the kings of the earth will bring their splendor into it.
On no day will its gates ever be shut,
for there will be no night there.
The glory and honor of the nations will be brought into it.
Nothing impure will ever enter it,
nor will anyone who does what is shameful and deceitful,
but only those whose names are written 
in the Lamb's book of life."
(Revelation 21:22-27) 

Salchipapas (Sunday Supper)

My memories of Lima House, where we stayed on our way out to the jungle and on our way back to the States, are mostly about the food. Every morning, the dining room was set for breakfast and a perfect orange half was placed at each setting.
 
I remember hard rolls and cold toast. I remember the fresh, cool air (so different from the jungle humidity) and the bougainvillea growing in the garden. I remember telling my best friend Tacy, when we were just four and a half, that I knew the way to the beach. We managed to collect our pails and shovels, and we left the gated House behind us. Eventually our absence was discovered. Our parents found us a few blocks away, sitting in a stranger's car. I got a spanking; Tacy did not.

Of the many suppers we ate at Lima House, the only menu I can recall is Salchipapas. I think even as a child, I was amazed that something so simple could taste so good.

Salchichas are sausages, and papas are potatoes. That's all this is. Fried sausages and potatoes. If you don't like to cook on Sundays (I don't), then this is a good way to keep people happy without working very hard.

This goes faster if you use frozen french fries. However, I like to use real potatoes. I often start with carmelized onions, just to add a bit of flavor and make the dish more healthy. The legit Peruvian recipe is just sausage and potatoes.

Salchipapas

Slice your favorite sausages (about one per person) diagonally
If you decide to microwave the potatoes first, do that now. Scrub, pierce,
and microwave whole potatoes till done
Slice potatoes (about two per person) into wedges, set aside

Fry sausages till browned on both sides
Scoot sausages to edge of pan, and place potato wedges in the oil left by the sausages

Fry potatoes on both sides till crispy and brown
Combine sausages and potatoes

Serve with ketchup

I know, I know....in the States, this is called "hash." But "Salchipapas" is much more fun to say. And you can tell people you made a real Peruvian dish. Remember - it's the best food in the world. 

The Long Winter

On a cold winter morning, my daughter and her cousin tried to play outside in their Little House outfits.
It did not go so well.
The dresses are calico cotton, and because the girls were trying to look authentic, they skipped snow pants and warm hats. Instead, they wore my Grampa Ericson's old coat (the brown suede one) and my black wool coat. They topped their braids with wraps. 
They looked pretty cute, and Malachi was all for joining them, but they were back inside within minutes.

What grows, when the weather is this cold?
Inside our warm house, the ivy from Grampa Murphy's casket spray is growing beautifully.

This December, my daughters decided that the old mantel display had to go.
I was in complete agreement, but somehow, lethargy had set in.
I could not figure out what to do with the big urns on either end of the mantel.
My girls decided to start fresh, and the urns, with the horribly dusty ivy inside them, went bye-bye.
In their place we now have this vintage barn block, a mirrored metal piece from Junk Market, an antler, and Grampa's ivy.
On the other end of the mantel is a potted tree from my friend Vicki. She found it at IKEA for fifty cents, and gave it to me with apologies for its near-death appearance.
It's one of the best gifts I've ever been given.

Every spring, this little tree is covered with pink blossoms.

 

Next up: painting the mantel.

I'll show you the reveal as soon as Nate allows us to paint.

Apparently, it's quite a project.

The stark contrast between my warm house, where children and plants are growing,
and the dangerously cold outdoors, where nothing at all appears to thrive,
astounds me every year.

The truth is that at all times, something is growing.
Whether we see it or not, change is taking place.
Thank you Jesus, for the way you make something beautiful
out of what looks like death and loss.

(Watching Anna Kate and Naomi struggle through the deep snow reminded me of these verses from Isaiah).

 This is what the Lord says—
    he who made a way through the sea,
    a path through the mighty waters, 
 who drew out the chariots and horses,
    the army and reinforcements together,
and they lay there, never to rise again,
    extinguished, snuffed out like a wick: 
“Forget the former things;
    do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!
    Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
    and streams in the wasteland. 
 The wild animals honor me,
    the jackals and the owls,
because I provide water in the wilderness
    and streams in the wasteland,
to give drink to my people, my chosen,    
the people I formed for myself
    that they may proclaim my praise."
 (Isaiah 43:16-21)

The Scary Years

    
Here is the knife drawer that Malachi can reach.     

Here is the new home for our knives, an oval platter placed well back on the counter.  
 

Here is our adorable toddler, busily marching back and forth from the knife drawer to the dining room, placing objects on the chair.
You can see some of my favorite kitchen tools: a Swedish cheese slicer (no wire slicers here, thanks to my friend Gretchen. We've used this one for over 15 years and it still slices beautifully); a flat cheese grater (perfect for block parmesan); a small cookie scoop.

I would love to tell you about my other fave kitchen tools, but I have no time, because my days are filled with chasing this baby boy. Keeping him safe and alive has become my main task. I haven't had a little boy in the house for many years. They are different than girls. Girls are talkative and can be active, but Malachi has a yearning to reach and conquer and figure things out mechanically, that our daughters didn't have. In this way he reminds us of Isaac, our oldest, who is a freshly minted engineer.    

We are trying to remember that these frantic years do not last forever, that we successfully kept four other toddlers alive, and that all this energy can be corralled into something that benefits society.

In the mean time, watching him want things that are terrible for him is a fantastic spiritual lesson.

"So, since we're out from under the old tyranny, does that mean we can live any old way we want? Since we're free in the freedom of God, can we do anything that comes to mind? Hardly. You know well enough from your own experience that there are some acts of so-called freedom that destroy freedom. Offer yourselves to sin, for instance, and it's your last free act. But offer yourselves to the ways of God and the freedom never quits. All your lives you've let sin tell you what to do. But thank God you've started listening to a new master, one whose commands set you free to live openly in his freedom!" (from Romans 6, The Message)

Here's to following the ways of God, asking for strength for each day, and encouraging each other along the way.

If you have any tips or advice on keeping toddlers safe, I'm all ears!