Missing My Jimmy and Beans

My winnings from the recent meat raffle!

When I moved back to my hometown of Royalton, I knew I would need to get use to some changes.  From the obvious of going from living with me, myself, and I to living with my parents - which, up to this point has gone well once we installed the babygate policy.  But there were also some minor changes that related more to moving back to a smaller town - where you can get breakfast, lunch, and dinner AND win some bacon at the meat raffle at the local bar in town.

You see, over the years I have gotten use to some conveniences that come with communities that bigger in size than Royalton that I never thought would effect me. They included, but are not limited to: Jimmy Johns and skinny vanilla lattes. You may be shaking your head but this the honest truth - out of all of the different things that make all of the communities where I have lived so special and unique, it comes down to Jimmy and beans for me.

My love for Jimmy Johns took time to form over the years.  I remember when my friend, Greg Berube, took a couple of us to the Twin Cities while I was in college and we HAD to try this new, up and coming sub shop.  I came, I ate - I wasn't impressed.  Now fast forward some years to Waterloo, IA - we use to have our Cancer Crusher team meetings in Waterloo and our manager, Heather, would order in lunch from us.  Since JJ delivered it was an automatic choice.  I rolled my eyes, ordered my sub - but this time I was surprised.  Now I started to get the hype again - the bread, the avocado spread, the simplicity of the whole sandwich made it so delicious.  Well, when Heather realized we all enjoyed Jimmy Johns, she started to order them for us all. the. time. until we told her we were going on strike from the sandwiches.  So once again, I was at odds with Jimmy - I simply had too much of him.

THEN fast forward a couple of more years and the big JJ arrives on the fast-food scene in Mason City.  Which when any new restaurant opens in Mason City, it is a big deal - doesn't matter if they are amazing or fall flat.  So when longtime lunch time friend Heidi mentioned that we should go there for our next lunch date, I sighed and replied "Oh that sounds good."  But again to my shock, I ordered my Turkey Tom with a avocado spread on it and fell in love again.  And then to top it off - "what do you mean you will deliver to my office??"  Now it was on - Jimmy Johns was a new go to staple for me when meetings would go late at night or I simply couldn't leave the office for lunch and had forgotten to bring anything in.  They were light batman sweeping in to save the day, a teenage boy with a Jimmy Johns sign would show up with my salvation.

When I moved to Dubuque this tradition remained the same except now there were a few more of us ordering the life-saving sandwiches - but there was one, there is always one, who didn't understand the joy that comes from the Turkey Tom - Ms. Jodi.  She would go on to inform me that the sandwiches tasted "like dirt."  Yep you heard me.  Dirt.  I could not believe my ears, how could ANYONE not find the same joy as I did in the bread and mayo??  But I learned to accept this one fault of Jodi's, especially when she would offer to drive Jen and I there to pick up much needed sandwiches.

Now I know that me missing Jimmy Johns doesn't have too much to do with the actual sandwiches but more about what they represented - in Royalton the idea of food being delivered to your home is for yuppies.  The local Dairy Queen is the only fast food type of option, and after working there for over 7 years of my teenage life I simply could only eat so many blizzards and cheese burgers with only catsup, pickles and ultimate sauce.  So when I found out that there was a Jimmy Johns in Brainerd, only a short 30 mile jont up the road, the Avenger and I made the trip to north to once again enjoy the bread, the mayo, the turkey and the avocado.  And yes, it was a amazing.

Now about these beans.  I never thought I would be a coffee person.  You see I worked at the local coffee shop that once existed in Royalton and never really liked the taste of coffee.  The bitterness that I couldn't seem to kill with chocolate, sugar or cream never won me over.  I just never got the whole thing about coffee.  Then I moved to Alaska and moved in with two coffee lovers in the form of my cousins - Eric and Molly.  The daily buzz of the coffee grinder served as my alarm clock that was followed by the fresh smell of coffee.  Eric and Molly soon had flipped me to the coffee side of life.  Once I was good with my drip coffee they brought me to Kaladi Brothers - a chain coffee shop in Anchorage that quickly turned into a goto for me and Howard (my laptop) to visit and sit for a while enjoying my fresh brewed skinny vanilla latte or chia tea.

Howard III and I enjoying the view while blogging

Over the years, there would be other coffee shops and my choice of drink would sway from drip to latte to tea to iced to chai and then back to my trusted skinny vanilla latte.  The warmth and light sweetness from the drink always seemed to make me slow down and enjoy.  Add in the fact that I normally got my lattes only every once in awhile vs daily, I always saw them as a special treat.  Well needless to say Royalton's coffee shop is gone, but my parents have a Keurig that has brought me much joy.  But for those lattes, I have to travel a little ways and have been testing out a few different places to find just the right spot to sit and sip with Howard the third with much success.

So as I begin to settle into my most resent move and temporary residence in Royalton, I am starting to learn all of the little things that make my life hum along.  Even though I am missing my Jimmys and lattes, the addition of beautiful snow-covered views, seeing and catching up with so many faces from "back when," to learning my role with my new job - it all makes up for it.  Plus, hopefully in only a few months I will be moving into a new home in the Brainerd area.  And do you know what Brainerd has??  Jimmy Johns and several coffee shops.  Until then I will sit here, enjoy the view with Howard the third, and sip my coffee fresh from the Keurig.  

Following My Compass

Yeah it's been a bumpy road,
roller coasters high and low...

In the last year my normally pretty quite road of life had taken many different turns, had changed speeds, and endured many stops at the mechanic.  I had experienced some new highs, but unforchantly the lows out weighed them.  It seemed like nothing was truly working out for the better...

Fill the tank and drive a car, pedal fast, pedal hard,
You won't have to go that far,
You wanna give up 'cause it's dark
We're really not that far apart...

Then changes that I knew were coming finally came, I headed back to the one place that always comforts me and resets me - back home.  I moved in with my parents, rolled the dice on finding a new job, and packed up my life once more.  Hard decisions were made and I always had to wonder if I was making the right ones.  But regardless of the decisions my friends and family stood by me in so many different ways.

So let your heart sweetheart be your compass when you're lost
And you should follow it wherever it may go

But then things started to fall into place. A new, amazing job that gives me ways to grow and challenge myself and even lets me be back in my old communications multi-media world while being a part of so many change agents in Central Minnesota.  Being around my parents and getting to know them all over again in a  different way.  Seeing familiar faces and catching up with so many voices that I hadn't heard in so many, many years.  Before when all I could see where "Round-about" signs, I finally felt as if these new signs were trying to show me that I was actually going in the right direction.

When it's all said and done, you can walk instead of run
'Cause no matter what, you'll never be alone

So now here I sit.  At the same computer desk that I used in high school, typing this blog.  Incase you had notice, it is newly named blog.  I started writing this to share my bike/life stories but had noticed that it has changed into more life stories while I am running around barefoot (I hate socks and shoes, and yes, even in the winer - no socks.) on and off my bike.  So I thought a name change was needed.

But as I was thinking about how to write something about all of the changes that have happened since I moved back inside the city limits of Royalton, a started to think about signs and directions.  Lately I have been noticing them more - little things that I do believe God has been putting in my life to show me that this is exactly where I am meant to be.  Breadcrums if you will.  From being able to share a final meal with Mary Rose before she passed away, to seeing Deb Dixon in Nisswa by random chance, to having a car die in the middle of a frozen lake only to make for great story, and so many more little things that reminded me that I actually feel like I am going in the right direction again.

I first heard the song Compass by Lady Antebellum at the CMA awards this fall while watching them at Jodi's house.  I feel in love with the song immediately because I felt that I could completely relate to the lyrics and the message.  I was just trying to follow my compass and listen to my heart.

So I did.  And I thought it was only fitting that Compass came on the radio each time I interviewed at the Initiative Foundation.  The words also filled my car when it was packed to the gills with my life and headed up the road the Minnesota.  And it also came from my speakers on a foggy night adventure to try something new.  The lyrics and the message did not fall on deaf ears, instead it helped me see through the dark.

So here I sit.  Still writing and still trying to follow the signs and my compass.  All while trying to convince my mom that not wearing socks with my Crocs is completely and 100% normal.

So let your heart sweetheart be your compass when're lost...

A Low Country Christmas With Waves on the Side

My dad's footprint on the beach

All of my life I have lived near water.  Most of the time it has been by rivers where the water route is pretty well planned.  Even though you made not always be able to see what is around the bend, but you have a pretty good idea.  And the flow of the river always makes sense - just try to keep it between the banks.  And if it rains or melts too much snow, the river makes the changes need to keep the river flowing.  A river makes sense to me - it knows where it needs to go and does.  What doesn't make sense to me?  Waves.

This past Christmas my family traveled to Charleston, SC, to have a "Low Country Christmas."  The trip was a great one filled with tours of the Charleston Harbor, downtown Charleston by horse drawn carriage and a tour of the Boone Hall Plantation - all of which I would highly recommend if you ever find yourself in Chuck Town.  My brother ate his weight in oysters and I was able to catch up with my friend, Amanda, who lives near by.  I also watched a group of cyclists enjoy the view of the beach from the road as they rolled by in the much warmer than Minnesota temps.

Folly Beach Pier

As much as all of these activities were a fun time, my favorite part of the trip was were we stayed in Folly Beach, which is just outside of Charleston.  Once again we were able to rent a condo from a home owner on VRBO.com.  We have done this in the past with great success with this year being no different.  Our condo was right across a parking lot from the ocean and Folly Pier - a place I visited every morning we were there. 

Many of the times I went to the beach, my dad accompanied me.  We would comb the beach for interesting shells and creatures while we walked and talked along the water.  But as we walked I would always find myself stopping to watch the waves roll in.  You see to me waves don't make sense.  The come and go as they please - some big, some small.  Some come in and bring water only a small way up the beach, others travel farther making you scatter up the beach as to not get your tennies wet.  Yes, yes, I understand that have to do with gravity and currents and the moon, blah blah blah.  But at the end of the day waves are weird.

Little gifts left by the waves

But as I watched the waves every day I started to notice certain things about them.  I noticed that no two waves were ever the same.  Some would come in mighty and loud and others would quietly spread across the sand.  I also noticed that when they would finally roll onto the beach they would always leave a line in the sand of where they ended.  Sometimes they would also leave some shells or jelly fish, but regardless you could see where they had been.  A wave foot print.

I think in our lives we feel like we are the river - rolling along our course and staying in our banks as we deal with anything that lies around the bend.  Then other times we get to experience some waves in our lives.  Moving water that doesn't make sense and seems to crest at unpredictable times, but things that leave marks in our memories.  Waves that bring something new into our beach that we may not have seen before.  In the river of life, every once in awhile we need to experience some waves.  Even if they don't make sense.

 

Happy Holidays!

So normally I love putting together a holiday card to send out sometime between Thanksgivings and New Years, but this year I decided to save the postage and just send out this lovely blog instead!

The Micheletti sisters making
Thanksgiving dinner - 2013

This holiday season has been a fairly special one for me - I spent Thanksgiving with my mom's side of our extended family and enjoyed servings of turkey skin, stuffing and green bean hotdish.  But this Thanksgiving was the first once that I didn't leave afterwards to head back to Iowa, I simply got back in the car and headed home with my parents - the home that I now share with them.

Facetime with my favorite Alaskans!

After a filling Thanksgiving came my 28th birthday - a day celebrated with phone calls, text messages, facebook posts, and even a facetime chat with so many of the amazing people in my life.  I also was able to go on a long walk with my dad shaded by the woods and filled with the sound of a freezing river.  My mom made a delicious meal that was capped off by a round of homemade angel food cake and raspberry sauce.

Following my actual Birthday came my Birthday party in the Twin Cities with friends from Iowa and Minnesota.  Since it was my first birthday in 10 years as a Minnesotan resident, I figured it was only fitting to do stereotypical Minnesotan things.  We went to the Mall of America followed by the Hollidazzle Parade and dinner in downtown Minneapolis.  I loved seeing so many of my friends and catching up with many who I hadn't seen in awhile.

An extra bonus that occurred right after my Birthday was accepting a new job up here in Central Minnesota.  As I had recently decided to step away from my work at the American Cancer Society to look for a new opportunity, I was able to find that a lot sooner than I had thought.  My role will be with the Initiative Foundation in Little Falls, MN, working as an organizational development specialist and will allow me to continue my work in the nonprofit world, a world I have come to love.  And because my office would be only 10 miles from my parents home, it allows me to stay with them a little bit longer before starting my apartment hunt.  The new job not only lifted the stress of job and home shopping over the holidays, but because I don't start until after the new year, it also gave me the opportunity to fully enjoy the last three weeks of my mini-retirement. 

Now with Thanksgiving, my Birthday and my job offer and acceptance in the past and several inches of fresh snow on the cold ground, I am looking forward to our upcoming Christmas trip.  A few years ago my family decided that instead of having my brother and I always travel to Royalton, that we should fly somewhere a little warmer.  The first year we went to San Diego and then last year to Denver, where Josh lives, and this year we are traveling to Charleston, SC.  I went to Charleston last year to see my Alaskan friends, Adam and Amanda and their daughter, Emma.  I had a great time and was excited that my family decided to go there this year.

Our rental home in Golden, CO - 2012

The best part of our Christmas travels is that we always manage to find a beautiful home rental by using VRBO.com.  Last year it was a beautiful home in Golden, CO, that looked into the Rockies and the year before a condo in San Diego only a block from the beach.  These homes always work the best for us as we are able to spread out in the house, use the washer and dryer, and most importantly, we have a kitchen.  Everyone in my family loves to cook and to have fresh made food around.  My brother normally comes in first and attacks the kitchen by making some fresh guacamole and other snacks.  While we do find some great local restaurants to try and find a great sushi restaurant, we all really look forward to our annual Christmas meal of homemade fettuccine Alfredo with lots of seafood in it.  This meal was started so many years ago and it is one that my stomach craves every year.  And every year we always find something to add to it.  When I lived in Alaska, I would fly down some fresh King Crab and then my brother learned how to make sushi one year, so fresh homemade sushi rolls were added to the meal from time to time.  

Christmas 2011 - San Diego

Along with the food, we always find some local activities to partake in and local beer/wine to enjoy.  But really the best part of the trip is spending time with my family.  Normally Josh and I only see my parents a handful of times during the year, and Josh and I only really see each other once or twice during a good year.  So the four to five days spent together makes up for the lost time and creates new memories (and fights - who am I kidding right?  Nothing says family fun like a good argument!) to talk about for the coming year.  When we would all come up the Royalton we would spend the time catching up with friends who were back home as well, and not as much time together as a family.  But our annual trips are filled with days of being around each other while trying to navigate our rental car to where ever our hearts desire. 

The time during Thanksgiving and News Years truly is my favorite times of the year.  The days may be short but they are filled to the brim with family, friends, hope, shopping, smiles, and memories of another year spent on this beautiful Earth.

So from me to you and your family, I wish you nothing but the happiest of holidays filled with family, friends, food and fun!

Happy Holidays!

-Andrea

320

I remember my first cell phone - it was maroon and shaped like a small fish.  My dad bought it for me when I was in high school and I thought it was the coolest thing ever.  But the best part - I had my own phone number.

I don't remember my first cell number, but I do remember my second one.  I got that one my freshman year of college when we lied to the Verizon guy about my address so I could get their service.  And over the years I switched phones every two years as my cell phone has come with me every where and to all of the different places I have visited and called home.  And while my phones, location, and level of usage has changed over the years one thing stayed the same.  My phone number and my area code - 320.

An old high school friend asked me for my new cell number over the weekend and when I gave her the digits, she commented that it was the same one I had from years ago.  She was amazed that I never had it change and the more I thought about that fact the more interesting it became.  From the different states and street addresses, one thing stayed the same - 320.  It was almost as if I was just never really ready to let go of my roots in Central Minnesota or maybe my phone knew what was going to happen all along - that 320 would become my home again.

This week I found out some great news, my temporary status of living in central Minnesota just got permanent.  I was offered a new job at a foundation here in the area that involves me working with partnering nonprofits and helping them be successful in their mission to create change in their communities.  I start working again on January 6, 2014 - almost two months to the day since I had stopped working.  I am very excited for the new role but even more excited to be back in 320.

I was never sure I would be back in this area and be so excited about it.  I had spent so many years trying to run away from here that the idea of being happy to be back was very foreign to me at first.  But after speaking to my friend Heidi, it made more sense.  She had lived a path much like mine - she grew up in Mason City, IA, went to college at ISU and then moved out to Detroit.  After several years of living in the "Mitten State," a job and life change led her back to Mason City and her family.  As we spoke on the phone the other day about my new Minnesotan status, she gave me some supportive words about being back where you came from and especially being back around my family. With my old lifestyle I only saw my parents a few times during the year and my extended family in Minnesota only 1-2 times a year, and my brother, who lives in Denver, once a year.  I never thought this was all that weird until I started to notice how much my friends did with their families.

Nights out at the campground, a day spent seeing a movie, or just a quick stop in to say hello.  It was something that was a part of their daily life.  I forgot how much I missed that.  Many of my extended family is only an hour to two hour away from my parents' home and I missed being a part of their daily lives.  And my parents, who have supported me through every move, every hardship and every success, well I missed having them around.  A part of me truly wanted to change that and the job change only made it easier.

I truly believe that things happen that are suppose to happen, you just need to let them.  I knew I was met to make all of the moves and job changes I have done.  For good or bad, they lead me down my path and I gained so much from each one of them.  And the same has been true for my latest.  Not only am I gaining a new and exciting job, but I am getting my family back.  I get to be a part of my parents daily lives (until Spring that is and then it will be a part of their weekly lives ;) and get to see other members of my family more regularly.  And the icing on the cake?  I am still a small drive away from my Iowa friends that make for a great weekend escape!

So I am back in the 320.  If you had asked me five years ago if I would end up here, I would have said no way.  If you had asked me two years ago, I would have said - eh. maybe.  But now.  Well now, at this new fork in my road it feels so great to me back where hotdish makes sense and blaze orange is the state color.  Back in Minnesota and back in the 320 - where my cell phone number makes sense.  Where I make sense.

But to those in Iowa - don't worry I will keep representing the Iowa plates and Hawkeye sweatshirt for a bit longer, as you have been pumped into my blood as well with a side of Alaska.  It has been my travels that have made me who I am and is what makes me excited to be back home.

Dear 320 - I'm back to stay.   

Don't Grow Up - It's a Trap

Josh and I on our sweet rides

Do you remember when you first learned how to ride a bike?  How long did it take for you to lose the training wheels?  Odds are that one of your parents, siblings or friends took the time and patience to teach you.  Someone took the time to watch you try and try and would help you every time you would wipe out.

For me it was my mom, or at least I was told, and she said it didn't take me to long to ditch the training wheels and feel the freedom that is riding a bike.  She shared memories with me tonight about time I would ride downtown to get something from Larry's Groceries and take a detour or two along the way home.  She said I loved learning how to ride because it opened me to so many other things outside of my own front yard.   

So many things, like learning to ride a bike, is part of a "typical" childhood.  Our childhood is spent mostly having fun and learning.  From writing, drawing, swinging from the monkey bars, and playing tag - we took it all in and opened our minds to be filled with so many things.  But many times in our lives we get caught up in our "adulthood" and forget what it is like to be a kid again.

One of my favorite parts of coming back home is going to school with my parents and working in my mom's classroom.  Both of my parents are Elementary teachers - my dad retired a few years back but still fills in as a substatuite teacher from time to time and my mom has a room filled daily with third graders.  Tonight I went to my old elementary school to help in my mom's room for the annual holiday music concert.  Every year since I was a small kindergrartner and many years even before then, our school's music teacher, Ms. Burnside, would put on the most wonderful concerts.  The gym would always be packed with family and friends as they watch rows of children sing their hearts out on a stage surrounded by bright decorations and framed by black curtains.


Tonight's concert was no different.  I watched my mom's third graders sing about going to grandma's house with jingle bells on their little wrists and stomped their feet as they asked Santa for no more slippers for Christmas.  Afterwards back in their classroom I was quickly asked what I thought of the performance.  I told them they all did wonderful and was answered by toothy grins and some not so toothy grins.  They talked with my mom about who they all saw in the crowd from their families - moms, dads, grandparents, neighbors - they noticed them all from up on the stage.  Then they all started listening to a story about Clifford the Big Red Dog as I continued to work with some of them one on one to finish their stocking project.  After the story, they played a quick game of 7-Up - remember the game where you put your head on your desk as a few selected others would run around and put your thumb down.  Some them of gently push your thumb as they giggled and then others would give it a quick slam and run away.  Then you would raise your head and try to guess who had pushed on your thumb.

It seems so odd to think that it truly comes down to the simple things - listening to a story, playing a simple game, and sharing who supports you.  As adults we make these things seem so unimportant, but to kids they are at the top of the list.  Kids are so eager to learn, to try, and to share, where as us as adults we tend to be guarded, stubborn, and unwilling to change.  When did we forget to be kids?

As I finished up my time with the students tonight I was also reminded that some children don't get that "normal" childhood.  Not every child has someone to teach them how to ride a bike or to come to their holiday concert and that will bring me to tears almost every time.  But then you see one of their school friends step up and tell them they did a great job and that their slippers are really cool, and all seems good again.  Not every childhood is a great one or a perfect one, and sometimes it doesn't seem fair.  But as I told many times growing up - life isn't always fair.  They will be hard times, good times, times when you want to give up, and times when all you want is your mom.  And that never changes no matter how old you are.


So don't forget to have some fun today, to learn something new, and most of all love your life, no matter if it doesn't always seem fair.  And when you get the chance, make the time and have the patience be there for a little one in your life and to teach them something - trust me they will truly appreciate every moment of it.  And most of all, remember to never lose your inner child and to let her enjoy the wind in her hair ever once in awhile. 

It is not the heat, it is the humidity

So here is a little pop quiz.

On Friday in Royalton, MN, it was -11 degrees with a 5 mph wind, while in Mason City, IA, it was 15 degrees with a 15 mph wind.  Which place is "colder?"

When I moved up to Alaska, most people said the same thing - Oh boy, I bet that will be cold!  And don't get me wrong, it was cold.  Many times when I would travel to Fairbanks and Delta Junction and it would be -20, -30 and yes, -40 degree weather.  Up there it's completely normal to have a block heater hooked up to your car when it was parked overnight and to leave the engine running while delivering daffodils because if you didn't they would freeze.  Ever smelled thawing daffodils?  It is ain't a pretty smell.

But I learned something about being cold when I moved back to Iowa after my time in Alaska - once you hit 10 degrees, it just feels cold no matter the number, but once you add in a 25 mph wind, well that is down right cold.  Iowa is a tricky state, it can seem to be really nice outside until your eye wonders down to the wind report on weather.com and then your day automatically changes.  You look out and think, "Mmmm.  What a beautiful day, I should get out and ride!"  Then you walk outside and bam!  You are hit with a 20 mph wind gust that fills your lungs with the smell of sunshine and barn.  Yum.

But as bad as the wind can make a sunny, warm day in July, it only makes it 500 million, bagillion times worse in the winter.  You know you phase - it isn't the heat it is the humidity?  Well in the midwest it should be changed in the winer to it isn't the subzero temps, it is the soul sucking wind chill.  Wind that makes your face feel like it is going to fall off as you walk around the corner of a building and straight into a new direction of wind.

Braving the cold at the Hollidazzle Parade
 with Rachel, myself, Carl and Amber

This past weekend I traveled down to the the Twin Cities for my Birthday celebration.  The weekend consisted of some typical "Minnesotan" things - trip to the Mall of America and IKEA followed by the Hollidazzle Parade and dinner.  I had friends from both the Cities and Iowa coming to celebrate the big 2-8 with me.  On top of a recent snowfall, the state was enjoying the sunshine and cold temps that followed the storm.  Nothing says welcome to winter like doing the no-jacket-shuffle up seven flights of stairs in a over crowded parking garage, listening to how your friends managed to get their cuddle duds to fit under their skinny jeans, and of course by spending 30 minutes bundling up your body to stand and watch a lighted parade in downtown Minneapolis for 5 minutes before running back to your heated hotel room.

As much as I may complain about the cold, I know that it is what makes me stronger as a person.  You know you are a true Minnesotan when you are willing to bypass your shoes to run out to your car quick to grab your cellphone.  But the best part about living where it is cold, is finding out the things that truly make you warm.  From spending time with friends and family to remembering why you love the state you were raised in and recently moved back to.  The fun conversations shared over a fireplace; new games played while eating pickle dip in a warm hotel room; and the joy that a remote car start brings to your life.  Things that truly make you warm inside.

At the end of day, it may be cold outside and the wind may blow but all the memories that happen while trying to stay warm makes it totally worth it.  Because in the end the best part of being cold is that you can only get warmer.  That is, unless the wind picks up.