Winter Driving On Our Road

The other day we had a true Minnesotan March snowstorm, complete with 10 inches of heavy wet snow that fell constantly during the day.  The days beforehand had been filled with the start of a spring thaw and residents enjoying the warm weather and dry roads.

And then bam.  Life slowed down once the white stuff started to fly.  My normal commute was greeted by red taillights.

If I have learned anything from my years of winter driving is that the key is to appreciate clear roads, as you never know when that road might change.  It can be a road that you drive every day and know like the back of your hand, but add some snow with a side of ice and that "normal" drive turns difficult.  Every day of our road can change - sometimes we can prepare for the changes and sometimes you truly don't see it coming before it is too late, and we are left with only memories of when the road was clear and easy.

Amber and I in 2005

This week I witnesss a friend's road in life completely change.  Amber and I had become fast friends when we were at high school and working at the Royalton Dairy Queen.  She was from Little Falls and I thought she was (and still is!) the coolest thing since sliced bread.  Her blond locks were in dreads, ears were gaged out, lip pierced and her skin covered in tattoos.  She was everything I felt I couldn't be or pull off and somehow she did it will flair and confidence that I envied.  Amber and I logged hours upon hours together at the DQ, and I loved every moment of working with her.  Many times after late weekend nights at work, we would road trip to the IHOP in St. Cloud for pancakes and a rendition of "Sugar...danna danna dan da...Oh Honey, Honey" supported by dancing sugar and honey packets.  

When I left for college, and Amber a year later, we tried to stay in touch.  She would send me postcards to add to my collection, and we would try to get to together when were both back in town, especially for a late night movie on Christmas and Chinese food.  We would both share life updates and different experiences we had both been going through.  As the years came and went, our catch-ups would tend to get farther and farther a part, but none the less we would always try to find time.  I was so honored to be invited to her wedding a few years ago and be a part of her and Jason's road.  And this winter, she even braved the cold to come to watch the Hollidazel parade for my Birthday.  We weren't always a part of each other's daily lives, but we were there when it matter the most.  This week really drove that message home to me.

Sunday I received a text from Amber that her Dad had passed away unexpectantly and that she would be in town for most of the week.  My heart immediately sank and went into response mood - what happened and how can I help?  As the week unfolded, Amber and I were able to get together at Perkins, and she shared everything that had happened and all that she was trying to deal with in the aftermath - funeral plans, title transfers, and, the oddly painful yet blissful, going through of old pictures.  I didn't know Amber's dad all that well except from the stories she would tell me and the beautiful pictures she had posted of him on Facebook over the years.  And when time finally came for the wake, although I was completely saddened by his passing, it was seeing the tears in Amber's eyes that completely broke my heart.  My friend was missing a part of her normal road.



It is so bitter sweet when we lose someone we love, and you start to think about the memories - the time traveled together on our road.  Many times after we start thinking about the memories shared, we start thinking about the upcoming events and memories to be made that they will not be able to be a part of now.  But we push on, we move forward and find ways to make our past be apart of our present.  New memories are made and old ones serve a constant reminder as we continue to move down our road.

Even though the road we travel in life is constantly changing, as much as the weather does, they are our roads.  There will be those along the way who join you in the ride and support you wihen your tank gets low, and then there are those special ones who we know are always watching over us and who help us keep it between the lines when the days get long.

In each other's lives, we have a role to play today, tomorrow and even beyond.  We walk into each other's lives and find a place where we fit and find comfort.  And even though some may physically leave their spot inside of us their spirit and memory never truly does.  Much like the potholes that start to form after a brutal winter, over time the holes that we feel will too be filled with their memory and ways they have shaped our life.  Soon those holes start mesh back into our everyday, ever changing road of life.  And our job is to simply enjoy the ride and to appreciate a good, dry - yet curvy - road.      

Eat Your Heart Out Sochi

Facebook Status Update:

Wishful thinking.

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Dreaming of spring

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Indoor spinning is my new favorite part of winter!  - Liar.  

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Only 5 feet of snow until grass!

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Final Status: You know what is better than biking in your dad's
 garage when it is -35 degrees out??

Spinning with a beautiful view of the falling snow!  

Bring on the white stuff - love me a Midwest winer! 

This morning I spent a half hour in the warmth of my Dad's garage with Tessa and my new indoor bike trainer.  I bought the trainer as a knee jerk reaction to horrible cold snap we were having.  I just wanted something that would help me get moving when all I wanted to do was sit around and watch TV.  So I have used it a few times with it planted in front of the TV all while talking about summer biking trips and thinking of warmth.  I do enjoy my new trainer, it helps me to get my legs spinning, is near my current home, and I get to control the remote.  But incase ANYONE tries to lie to you, indoor cycling sucks.  Now let me clarify - cycling classes =fun workout!  Indoor biking by yourself = who else can I call while I pedal??  It is boring and SO not the same as being out on the road, but in the dead of winter it gets the job done and helps you do the necessary breaking in of your butt.

Today as I walked to the garage to put my time in I noticed the recent snowfall that we were receiving and decided to post the picture above of my bike and the snow once Facebook.  As I started to think of a witty status to go with it, I started to have issues.  Why was I wishing so much for summer?  Why was I pretending that I hated the winter?  Why am I inside on this stupid trainer when I could be outside enjoying the ABOVE zero temps!  But most importantly - Why I am not out enjoying the snow instead of wishing it would melt away?

I am a snow lover.  Hold your rotten tomatoes back and just listen.  You see I absolutely love snow - the way it falls so gracefully and softly.  It coats everything in a blanket of pure white bliss.  I love the way it drapes and hangs on trees and buildings, and I love how it makes you slow down.  This morning as I was outside walking in the snow, I stopped for a moment and just listened.  I listened to the snow fall on the trees.  I heard the whirl of the snow blowers and the sound of the snow crunching under my feet.  Have you ever stopped to listen to the snow?  Now many of you may think that snow sounds like cars crashing into each other, the beeping of snow plows, and TV telling you how to stock up on life supply of water bottles and toilet paper but it is the worse snowfall since...well since the last snow fall.  But trust me - that isn't what snow sounds like - it is so pure and soft, and it will make you fall in love with it all over again.

The trail to the chicken coop

So as I continued outside with the idea of just simply walking around and enjoying the snow, butnI realized that much of the snow was getting into my fleece-lined Crocs, and I was going to need another mode of transportation to get around in the snow.  And at that moment I saw my skis.  I quickly laced up boots, grab my polls and when into my snow globe of a back yard.  I decided I would blaze a trail in the tracks of where my dad had plowed to get to the chicken coop.

Now this section was only covered with the fresh few inches that we have received over night.  As I started to get my skis on, I felt a bunch of snow being blown my way, and as I looked up I saw our neighbor, Bill, armed with his snow blower that he was using to clear the path from our house to his.  He laughed as I tried to dodge the incoming flakes and asked me what I was up to.  I informed him of my plan and he had the same look on his face that I had when I reliesed that after the chicken coop - well there was no plowed path, I would be blazing my own trail if I wanted to go farther.  He told me to have fun and took off to finished his snow blowing.

I came, I saw, I made my own trail

As I made my way to the coop and start to turn around the bend I ran straight into my father's new winter hobby - chopping wood.  There stood in the middle of my intended path was a large pile of fresh cut wood.  But on the side was a small path, so I decided to continue on made my way around.  As I cleared the "wooded" area, I was greeted by the beginning part of my unplowed path - snow that came up to my knees as started to push my skis forward.  I started to wonder if this was the best idea. I could feel the snow stinging on the bare parts of my ankles and my fingers trying to fight back against the cold and the wet.  But I pushed on and finally blazed my trail as I lopped around to my starting point.  I hadn't gone very far, maybe 25 yards, but it felt good to be out in the snow and back on my skis.

The "wooded section"

So I did a handful of laps around my new track and Sochi has nothing on my course!  Mine came with a few obstacles and even had a small downhill section, and it also had some spectators cheering me on. But most of all, I made my course.  I saw where the tended path should be and I blazed ahead.  And like may new paths - it only got easy each time around.  The snow shifted and settle more into my trail and I was better prepared to deal with any obstacles that occurred.  In a very short time, I was the sole owner of the world record and personal best that this trail had ever recorded.  I even made a "short track" for times I didn't want to deal with the wooden section - and once again guess who had the fast time on the course??  Yep.  Me.  Gold medal contender.

Ever heard a hen heckle someone - those lady can get mean!

Sometimes I think we get freaked out by having to learn new things or trying to blaze our own trail.  What if we do it wrong and no one else likes it?  What if someone could do it better than me?  What if I fail?  I have been facing this a lot lately - that self doubt of whether or not you are doing it "right."  Then you realize, that this life didn't come with instructions telling you the right and wrong way to do everything or how to think.  Instead you can use what you have learned from others, what you know from your experiences, and just go.  Build what you need to build, because nothing will ever be perfect.  And yes, I too saw the Lego movie and loved this same message that they sent out to adults and children alike - perfection isn't the only way to live, sometimes you truly need to color outside the lines.  Or build a double decker couch.

One of my spectators enjoying the snow

I also learned today that we can't yearn for better times to get us through our current day-to-day.  Complaining about the snow isn't going to make it melt any faster.  Instead we need to embrace what is around us and find the best way to enjoy all that is given to us each and every day.  To get outside and to simply slow down.  To find a way to enjoy and be happy in each moment.  To appreciate the good times, when everything is what you exactly want and need in that day.  And most of all - to get outside and to listen to the snow.

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.