A Colorful Life - Lived in the Dark

This article came out in Sr. Perspective at the beginning of May. I was so pleased to interview this wonderful lady. What an inspiration!

Genuine, caring and courageous, with a great sense of humor mixed in. That would be a good way to describe Carol Alperin, 69, of Maple Grove. Alperin’s life has been full of challenges that make her both interesting and inspirational. Navigating through life is difficult for most people. Alperin has been navigating through most of her 69 years without sight.

Alperin doesn’t let herself be limited by her disability. Her spirit and her laugh are contagious – she is genuinely happy and content, loves her family, and enjoys her friends and neighbors. She has some tools she uses, like a Braille machine and an Amazon Echo, but she mostly relies on her other senses and strong sense of herself.

Alperin’s brother, Roger, was born blind, but Carol could see until she was 12 years old. Surgery wasn’t an option in 1959 – the medical procedures were costly and not as advanced as they are now. But, both Alperin and her brother had gifts to share, and they didn’t let the lack of sight stop them.

“Roger had the gift of music,” said Alperin. “He could sing! You want me to sing Long Ago and Far Away. I’m not a singer.”

Alperin has many accomplishments of her own. She went to school, taught sixth-grade for a while, played the piano, and was involved in swimming and gymnastics.

“I was an active enough child to maintain a distance judgment. I biked on country roads so my balance was always good, and I loved swimming and gymnastics – especially the trampoline.”

Alperin even passed the junior lifesaving test in swimming after she lost her sight, but the teacher wouldn’t give her the certificate. 

“She had a question about my blindness,” said Alperin. “But, I know I passed.”

Even though she lost her sight at 12, Alperin didn’t have “cane use” until she was 16. It was then, at 16 or 17, that she had one of her fondest volunteer memories: Working with babies. “That was such a delight,” said Alperin.

One of the things Alperin learned from her mother prior to losing her sight, which she still really enjoys and excels at, is knitting. She knits beautiful sweaters, ponchos, capes, hats and purses. She even makes the buttons herself. The details in her knitting projects are beautiful – roses, fringe, hand-knit and clay buttons, and bags that are fully lined with fun embellishments.

“My mom started teaching me knitting before I went totally blind, the summer before I lost my vision. I like to find a pattern and modify it a bit. I started making baby sweaters as gifts and a lot of women had their baby’s first pictures done in them.”

Currently she is working on dishclothes and washcloths for babies and for an organization she loves working with, Vision Loss Resources. Alperin loves to share her talent in helping and teaching others. It’s there that she makes the “sculpey clay buttons…you just roll and mold it, poke holes in it, and then bake it,” she says.

“We do lots of projects at Vision Loss Resources,” she said. “It’s a wonderful place. They even have adaptive quilting and make soaps with scents mixed in.”

Alperin enjoys interacting with others and has shown many people how to knit, crochet, and work with different crafts. She’s inspired by motivating others in being creative, especially other people who are blind. She wants them to know there are not as many limitations as they think there are. She also loves animals, reading, sewing, writing, plants, and enjoys music. But, she has a genuine helping spirit. She really feels truly rewarded in challenging others to be creative and make their lives better.

Alperin was just about to enter seventh-grade when her sight issues started. She described it as a “slow shutter.”

“It was the beginning of the school year,” says Alperin. “I could still see light and vibrant colors, and the sun shining off of bright colors. The loss of vision would come on suddenly and could happen at any time. For a time, my eyes would open back up. It would take a couple days and still be blurry or seem cloudy.”

Just being in school, or anywhere, was hard. You have to go up and down stairs, or walk on ice in the winter, or deal with uneven pavement. The types of things most people just take for granted they’ll see ahead of time. When your sight is suddenly changed, it makes everything more difficult. Since it came without warning, it was also scary, and hard for the other kids to understand.

“In school, I was the one who was different. The kids were not unkind, just thoughtless. Once they found out, they were right there for me.”

Eventually, her sight left her completely, but she never let that stop her. She always kept a light in her spirit, and she never let it make her feel like she wasn’t good enough. When asked how she knew her sight wasn’t going to return that last time, she said she could just tell.

“It was like frosted glass. The depth was whiter. There was a difference in the depth of the fog,” said Alperin. “I was sewing, of all things, when it happened. I just knew the vision wasn’t going to come back that time. I sensed it.”

Alperin wasn’t able to graduate from Brooten High School because of her disability, but she still attends high school reunions with the class of 1965. Even though she had to move, and still ended up getting a teaching degree, Brooten High School will always be a part of her. She has lifelong friends from high school that have never forgotten her.

“I’m grateful for not being isolated in a school for the blind,” said Alperin. “But they did learn better coping skills. I wasn’t around any other blind kids, except for my brother. And blind women have more insecurities, especially in big schools.”

Alperin may have her own issues, but she happily helps her husband of 46 years, Stan, as his caregiver. She likes to joke that they met on a “blind date” all those years ago, and they support each other and have a friendship that only comes with many years of being together.

They also raised three children together, two daughters and a son, and have five grandchildren. She became a stay-at-home mom after she had children. She’s very devoted to her family. She also has her cat, Cinnamon, who she adores.

 

Cinnamon 

It’s true that your other senses are stronger when you lose your sight, but it’s still very difficult in a world that operates for people who can see.

“I do use sound a lot,” said Alperin. “The television, music, an open window, can help me navigate better.”

Moving from their house in Brooklyn Park to an assisted living building in Maple Grove in the last few months has had Alperin learning new surroundings.

“We had to make a choice for Stan. He has intense OCD, and other physical problems. Maple Grove is nice, and has more of a town feeling, but transportation is harder because we’re farther out. But, we get some housekeeping, and help with laundry and medications. I like that it’s very woodsy and lodge-like, but navigating in a new apartment with an angled kitchen has been hard. But, the love and community feeling here…the people are amazing. We help each other.”

She’s glad to help Stan, but when she gets overtired, it’s harder. To try and rejuvenate when she needs it, she does take time off occasionally.

“I do go to a support group, and I try to take a long weekend every three months or so at a Christian retreat. It’s all blind people there or partially sighted people.”

Alperin has never let her loss of sight define her. She’s happy and is both confident and humble.

“I don’t have to impress people,” Alperin said. “I don’t need to make a big deal out in public. It isn’t that we go out to set an example. We choose other adaptations to be the person we are. To stay the person we are. The way I start every day is to think of three positive things. It gets my day going.”

Everyone has their obstacles and challenges in life, but Alperin has faced each challenge and kept a positive attitude throughout.

“You have to go through the fire sometimes to get to the glory,” said Alperin. “You’re a person first. When people lose their vision, they lose touch with themselves. They get so upset with their vision loss. They don’t realize what they can do.”

While most of us can see things unfolding before our eyes, Alperin has had to do it in the dark. The funny thing though is that in some ways, she actually sees things more clearly than those of us who can physically see.

“The one thing I want people to see is that life doesn’t stop when you have a disability,” said Alperin. “Everyone has strengths. There are so many people who are so awesome.”

  Carol with some of her projects. 

 

Piccadilly Prairie Hosts Paris Flea Market in New Location

The Paris Flea Market at Piccadilly Prairie is a fantastic event. It really does bring the lights of Paris to gloomy, winter Minneapolis skies. This article came out in the Southwest Journal at the end of January, just in time for the flea market. I'm honored to be able to write and photograph about such a great place. It's so unique and so much fun.

 Photo by CY Hunter

Once a year at the end of January, Piccadilly Prairie brings the lights of Paris to the gray, winter skies of Minneapolis.

The store’s Paris Flea Market, in its fourth year in 2016, had over 1,000 people buy tickets online for opening night.

“Something really clicked, and it exploded,” said Lacey Brooker, the store’s owner.

Now the Paris Flea Market is an anticipated annual event that takes place the last weekend in January. The next Paris Flea Market is Jan. 27–29.

This year’s Paris Flea Market will be an even bigger event thanks to the store’s new location, which opened in November. The store relocated from the Fulton neighborhood to Southdale Center, just a couple miles away.

“We have the same rustic, boho vibe as we did in our previous location but with more space and better parking,” said Brooker. “And when you’re done shopping there’s always dinner and a movie.”

Piccadilly Prairie’s new space has little vignettes, with sections dedicated to kids, Minnesota and local artists, as well as other fun areas to discover.

“We have more artisan gifts, like apple jams and honey sticks,” Brooker said. “And we added more local artists that craft everything from pillows to candles.”

The vibe is cool, creative and modern mixed with history. Piccadilly Prairie’s commitment to authenticity is mixed in throughout the store in refurbished pieces that keep the original hardware, always maintaining the unique nature of each piece.

The same workmanship and history are also in the new store’s design. From the 100-year-old Minnehaha Avenue bricks in the front windows to hand-laid, repurposed wood designs on the walls throughout the store, Piccadilly Prairie has a warm and cozy atmosphere that’s truly unique.

The store is a fun place to shop all year round, but the Paris Flea Market is a special event. It mimics a European flea market with many pieces brought in from Europe.

“For the Paris Flea we source as much as we can from France,” Brooker said. “We have pickers that live abroad and some that travel back and forth. The rest of our selection during the Paris Flea is French-inspired.”

Brooker’s eye for unique, authentic pieces is evident everywhere in the store. Beautiful linens, clothing, furniture, hand-poured candles and jewelry hang everywhere, mixed in with other great treasures. It makes the store’s Parisian atmosphere shine like Paris itself.

On opening night last January, people were lined up outside in the cold, waiting for the doors to open. They walked in to great finds, fun conversation and wine to enjoy while shopping (it is French, after all).

The always-warm atmosphere of Piccadilly Prairie is particularly radiant with the Paris Flea Market. The little store that started near the corner of 50th & Xerxes transforms itself into a magical Paris shop each January. They even greet everyone with a friendly “Bonjour” upon arrival.

Piccadilly Prairie stylishly displays pieces as you would actually use them in your own home. Linens and beautiful dishware are displayed on a gorgeous shabby-chic table in the corner, drawings and photos are hanging high up on the walls and tapestries, clothing and chairs are set up in a way to help you visualize them in your own space.

“Along with the French country pieces, which are mainly shabby-chic whites, we added Victorian pieces last year. And many of the French pieces are handmade,” Brooker said.

Brooker is also never lacking a fun sense of humor. A French porcelain pig holds a small chalkboard with “Oui, oui, oui” written on it, making you think of the classic fairy tale with a French flair. It’s the stories and the subtle, whimsical touches that make the Paris Flea Market a truly extraordinary event.

 

A display at Piccadilly Prairie's Paris Flea Market. Photo by CY Hunter

January is always pretty cold in Minnesota, and it can make winter a little too gloomy for a little too long. But the warmth and beauty of the Paris Flea Market definitely brings a bright spot amid the dreary winter.

Minneapolis may be a long way from Paris, but thanks to Piccadilly Prairie, it seems like it’s right around the corner.

Sharing Art in Unique Ways

This was published in Sr. Perspectives on January 1st. I love this artist. She has a wonderful shop on 46th and Grand in South Minneapolis that is full of unique pieces from local artists, as well as her own artwork which is really fun and colorful. She also has a lot of pieces she has done for Prince that are really a great tribute to him and his music.

Minneapolis artist spreads joy through her murals.

There are a few murals around Minneapolis, but Tammy Ortegon’s paintings have a personality to them that makes them quite inviting and unique. When you first meet the artist, you just know she was one of those passionate kids who could always paint. Her creative spirit shines through in everything she does. 

Besides owning a shop in South Minneapolis, Ortegon is known for the murals she has painted around the Twin Cities. “I love public art. It’s accessible to everyone,” she said. “I love driving by and seeing art – it isn’t expected.”

One of the things Ortegon is most proud of is that the murals were actually group projects completed with the kids in the community. The first mural she was commissioned to do is on the corner of Cedar Avenue and 34th Street in Minneapolis, on the side of the Corcoran Neighborhood Center. Ortegon taught six weeks of classes to the kids prior to working on the mural with them. The collaboration with the kids made it special – and the mural reflects what’s important to the kids in their community. Favorite things from their area, along with the kids themselves, are incorporated into the mural, giving it a personalized connection to the families who live there. The mural in the Corcoran neighborhood has a particularly sweet meaning for Ortegon. “In that neighborhood, the kids have more obstacles, and they have to be stronger to resist temptations,” said Ortegon. “We talked about those struggles and being true to yourself. The kids would always hang out in the park. It’s a resource for them.”

When Ortegon painted the mural on Peter Pan Cleaners on the corner of Grand Avenue and 38th Street, she noticed a contrast in the two neighborhoods. “The kids had more comforts and support in the Grand area,” Ortegon said. The enthusiasm was the same, however, and the final product was just as beautiful. It’s obvious it isn’t about the money for the artist – there is little money in doing these works of art, and it’s very time-consuming. On top of working a full-time job, and taking care of her own family, it truly is about working with the kids for Ortegon, and leaving a lasting impression in the neighborhood.

 Mural on Peter Pan Cleaners

Working on murals includes a lot of painting high up on ladders, and being able to paint to a scale most of us wouldn’t have any idea how to do. In the end, beautiful art covers a once plain wall with a rich and bright heritage. “I always want to do art that affects the local community. We are all connected. When you live as an artist – and I live art – everything we do makes a difference. My art should uplift everyone,” said Ortegon.

Ortegon’s murals not only beautify buildings and leave art for people to see publicly, they tell a tale of the neighborhood where they were created: the kids and their smiles, their input, and the places and activities they enjoy. In this, Ortegon’s murals are truly special. It not only engages the youth of the area, it adds color and art to the neighborhood.

In the Twin Cities, a lot of people know Ortegon’s artwork by her colorful paints and signature faces. Different cultures and places, as well as the influence of her own city, inspires her art, and makes it rich and interesting. As with many artists, it took a long time for Ortegon to be confident in her work. Artists usually don’t earn the title of “artist” until they are successful on society’s terms.“Until you make money, you’re not an artist,” she said. “It took me years to know I was an artist and like my art.”

She attributes a lot of what she does to her mother and her grandmother. “They didn’t have the privilege to be an artist. My grandma would put her drawings in a box under her bed,” said Ortegon. “I have privilege now because of the women who went before me. Women just did things to help their family then – or their art was considered to be ‘crafts.’”

“The most important part of the murals was working with the community,” said Ortegon. “It stays there when I’m gone.” And in that, it’s indeed very public art, whether you’re driving by or you live in the area. The murals are left to be enjoyed by each generation in remembrance of the artist…and the kids who inspired her. When all’s said and done, the buildings are beautifully covered with a story that can be read for years.

Tammy Ortegon

The Little Guy of Lake Harriet

This story was published in Sr. Perspective at the beginning of the month. The little girl was so adorable - and what this guy has done for years is so amazing and fun. I'm honored it was published! 

Stories often begin in the most unexpected places. In a small opening at the bottom of an oak tree growing on the edge of Lake Harriet, a tale was born. I had never noticed the tiny door with the brass door knocker and hinges – and certainly didn’t know anything about the fantasy elf who wrote letters to children on little pieces of shiny silver paper. As the years went by, a few letters grew into over a thousand a year, each personally answered and each ending with “I believe in you.”

When I first actually saw the tiny door, I was taken aback. Only about six inches tall, it opened to reveal a tall stack of letters. Around the bottom of the tree were carefully planted pink and white impatiens, a tiny sign that said “Gone Fishing,” and a small plastic doll in a toy lawn chair. As I stood and marveled at the little entrance, noticing the intricate care and detail put into it, I watched as children scurried up to the door to see if a note they had left had been answered yet.

A jogger who stopped by told me the history of the little guy. She said he had “moved in” several years ago and had become a child’s ultimate imaginary friend. She told me how a real man who lived nearby had been collecting and answering the letters since the mid 1990’s when the little door appeared. His wife had originally noticed the opening in the tree and suggested they put a door in it. What began as a fun idea for their family grew into a treat for all the families who walked the lake. With Lake Harriet’s paved walking and biking paths, canoes and sailboats, and concerts at the band shell, it is no surprise that this lake was picked to place a little elf and watch a story develop.

Addie, a nine-year-old from northern Minnesota, gave me my first opportunity to personally deliver a letter to the little guy. Children are so in touch with that magical realm that adults dismiss for reality, and she was quite taken with the little guy. In the note, she described herself and drew a colorful picture of the lake and the little guy’s house, as she saw it. Her letter - written in different colors of gel pens - contained several questions and suggestions for him:

“How do people find out about you at first? Do kids try to give you things in the winter? What did you make your door out of? Do you put a lock on your door in the winter? Do you know everything - like the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus? Do you have a family? Do you have a little town? If you do, what do you call it? Where do you go for the winter? Who planted the flowers around your house - you or someone else? You should have a little bonfire ring that is not lit up next time you decorate your house. Who decorates your house - you or someone else?” I grinned as I read the letter and carefully placed it in the growing stack inside the door.

A couple of weeks later a letter was written back to Addie on his famous silver paper carefully placed in a sealed plastic bag in case it rained before it was received:

“Dear Addie, who wrote the huge long letter in different colored inks: How nice of you to write. Sorry I missed you. Boy do you ask a lot of questions. Are you a detective? You should be when you grow up. The door is made of pine and copper. People found out about me when they saw the door. Kids give me all kinds of things. In the winter we move to our castle to the east. It has marble walls inside and a copper door. My name is Thom and I live with my wife, Martha, a great elf, and our daughter Alta Lucia, age seven. She is a princess elf. I am taller than my younger brother and shorter than my older brother. Enjoy the summer.  I believe in you.”  -  Mr. Little Guy

On a long walk around the lake a couple of weeks later, I saw a man ride his mountain bike up to the tree, collect the letters, and ride away. He had windblown gray hair and wore long khaki shorts and a white t-shirt, and was - surprisingly - just a normal-sized man. I thought of how he must visit on a regular basis, collecting the letters and touching the hearts of all those children. How he probably worked a regular job and had a regular life, yet he took the time to read and answer each letter sent to him. He was keeping a fantasy alive that everyone delighted in.

It always makes me smile when I walk by the little door in the tree now, and I always stop to take a peek behind it. Often times there are children and adults crowded around it. Usually I have my camera or journal in tow.  As I cross the little footbridge and approach the next set of stairs near Queen Avenue, I know the tree I had walked by unknowingly for so long is right there. And there is always a new treasure a child has left there, a new set of flowers, and a fresh stack of letters carefully placed behind the hinged door. In the winter, the only difference is a small sign posted on the tree telling everyone that the little guy has moved into his winter castle for the season. Notes can still be sent to a post office box.

Today was a beautiful June day in Minneapolis. As I finished my regular weekend errand running for the day, I treated myself to a leisurely walk around the lake. When I walked by the tree today there was a small plastic bag of popcorn propped up against the little door. On top of the bag sat a small scribbled note written in blue crayon that simply said, “I love you, Little Guy of Lake Harriet.” I smiled as I turned to leave, and thought how that child really spoke for everyone.

 

 A young girl looks in the door of the tree.

On Getting Older...And Not Accumulating Too Many Things

In a great piece in be-bolder, Jörmundur Ingi Hansen has a great way of looking at growing older and living simply.

I've always been someone who likes living in smaller spaces in the city, collects less things, and lives pretty simply. My family has always thought I was poor, when I think the opposite is true. I'm by no means rich either, but that isn't what it's about. I always say "what's the point of money if you don't share it?" I like to help people out and travel when I can. There are some things you need, of course, like clothes...and books, but I have a tendency to give things away as fast as I buy them because it just reminds me of someone else or "it had their name on it." (I apparently say that a lot, according to friends.)

In the article, I especially love Hansen's comment on what is truly important: 

"The most important lesson I’ve learned is that you have to be content with what you have. We are too prone in modern society to collect goods and money – although I shouldn’t be advising this given that I am trying to sell people expensive suits every day! But people who think they can fulfill their lives by having more ‘stuff’ are missing the point. The best things you can collect are experiences and good memories."

As far as growing older...well that's a whole other story. In my last corporate job, I was looked down on because I was a little older than the Millenials (and not even THAT much older), even though my technical skills are very current. I have nothing against Millenials - I have some friends in that age group. It's the focus being only on them, especially in a marketing field that was supposed to reach all ages. When I was really young, I always looked up to people that were older. And when I worked in social services, I loved my elderly clients - they were interesting and I could learn so much from them. Their stories and experiences were amazing. The Native American culture, and people in other countries, respect and appreciate older people. I've always thought all ages are good - just like I have always thought all races and backgrounds are good. Isn't a mix of people more diverse and more interesting? Why not learn from each other?

In America, the focus is always too much on youth. We are all going to - hopefully - get older. Why not embrace it? Hansen lives in Iceland, so they do have a more open view on age there:

"I don’t think anyone treats me differently because of my age but maybe I just don’t notice it! Possibly young people think older people are obsolete but it’s not so bad here in Iceland, lots of people keep on working. My grandmother was still working until she was well over 90. She was a herbalist and would run up to the mountains to get ingredients. Even when I was 16 I had difficulty keeping up with her."

I myself plan to keep on working well into my nineties too, if I'm fortunate. After all, you should only get better with age, and writing is definitely a field that is more interesting as you have lived more. And I predict I will keep living my life with less and less things...and keep giving them away. 

 

Don't Fear Diversity - Embrace It!

 In her last commencement speech at City College on June 3, 2016 - and her last as First Lady - Michelle Obama talked about the power of diversity. Without mentioning him by name, she did allude to a certain person running for president who is not open to diversity - but her message was more powerful and meaningful than that.

I happen to be a white woman, but I grew up all over the country - from the South to the Northeast to the Midwest. I've had a few different accents and often been the only white person in the room. My significant other, my friends - since the time I was very small to now - come from all walks of life. It wasn't just the moving around, it was also my parents, thankfully, who taught me to have an open mind. I've also always had an interest in traveling, in learning about different cultures, in learning other languages. Why would I want everyone else to be or look like me? How boring!

A candidate in the current election continually makes racist comments and has a mind that is so narrow and so egotistical, I doubt anything could permeate it. But, it's my hope that the people who follow him will learn to see that it's so wrong and so limiting. Because, unless you are Native American (who we also don't have enough respect for), we all come from families that originally came from somewhere else. My grandfather was from England. That isn't that far back.

In an article in Elle, and from her speech, Michelle Obama said that "Every single day I wake up in a house that was built by slaves, and I watch my daughters - two beautiful, black young women - head off to school." How powerful is that? That we have come full circle from a horrible time in our history - one we should be so ashamed of - yet as far as we have come, we still have way too far to go. There is still so much hatred, racism, and uncalled for fear. It is just something I have never understood, and never want to.

The First Lady went on to say:

"But unfortunately, graduates, despite the lessons of our history and the truth of your experience here at City College, some folks out there today seem to have a very different perspective. They seem to view our diversity as a threat to be contained rather than as a resource to be tapped. They tell us to be afraid of those who are different, to be suspicious of those with whom we disagree. They act as if name-calling is an acceptable substitute for thoughtful debate, as if anger and intolerance should be our default state rather than the optimism and openness that have always been the engine of our progress.

But, graduates, I can tell you, as First Lady, I have had the privilege of traveling around the world and visiting dozens of different countries, and I have seen what happens when ideas like these take hold. I have seen how leaders who rule by intimidation – leaders who demonize and dehumanize entire groups of people–often do so because they have nothing else to offer. And I have seen how places that stifle the voices and dismiss the potential of their citizens are diminished; how they are less vital, less hopeful, less free.

Graduates, that is not who we are. That is not what this country stands for. No, here in America, we don't let our differences tear us apart. Not here.  Because we know that our greatness comes when we appreciate each other's strengths, when we learn from each other, when we lean on each other. Because in this country, it's never been each person for themselves. No, we're all in this together. We always have been.

And here in America, we don't give in to our fears. We don't build up walls to keep people out because we know that our greatness has always depended on contributions from people who were born elsewhere but sought out this country and made it their home — from innovations like Google and eBay to inventions like the artificial heart, the telephone, even blue jeans; to beloved patriotic songs like  'God Bless America,' like national landmarks like the Brooklyn Bridge and, yes, the White House–both of which were designed by architects who were immigrants." 

Isn't it time we moved beyond such fear and hatred? Isn't it time we had a natural yearning to learn from different people and grow together as a country? I saw a sign in a store today that sums it up pretty well:

"Curiosity will conquer fear more than bravery will." (James Stephens)

Be curious. Be interested. Be open. Don't play into the fear of what you don't know - try to learn and try to understand that different cultures, different people, and different experiences can make life a lot more interesting in a land full of people from somewhere else. It isn't about walling people out or keeping things segregated...it's about mixing it all together. Isn't that what makes America interesting? Don't fear diversity - embrace it!  

Graphic From Pixabay.com

Walking & Writing

There is something about walking that fuels the writing soul. It generates ideas and helps you come to conclusions with others. Living by a city lake, and running into people and their pets, only makes it better.

When I got home today, I took a long walk to Linden Hills. It's a bit of a stretch, but it's near the lake and there are people walking their dogs everywhere - from German Shepherds to small Shih Tzus. Dogs are always so happy when they're being walked, their tails wag in a constant rhythm with their paws, and subsequently the people walking them are usually happy...and pretty proud of their pets when you mention how cute they are.

With the sun shining, and summer finally arriving, everyone was especially friendly today. There were smiles and hellos with everyone I passed. I walked to the nearest mailbox and mailed a bill payment, then I crossed the street to find more of the wonderful Little Free Library boxes which are all over the city. This one was grouped with four other boxes, the most I've ever seen in a row, by the local hardware store. I ended up having a nice chat with a lady who had also stopped to leisurely look through each box and see the books they had to offer. We talked about what a wonderful idea it was, how we had both contributed books, and taken a couple home as well. The conversation turned to me also being a writer and she was quite interested in what I liked to read and what I wrote. We chatted about mutual favorites and each made some recommendations. I wish I would have gotten her name. I will hopefully run into her again sometime.

The last thing I did before heading home was to cross the street to Dunn Brothers Coffee and grab a bottle of water. A very friendly redhead sold me the water and I mentioned that it was always nice to meet a fellow redhead. "Tell people that you're a majestic unicorn," she said. I thought, cool, I'll do that. The best was when I told her that only 2% of the population were natural redheads and asked her if she was too. "Ya," she said, "I grew it myself." With that we high-fived, and I walked back out into the sun heading back home...with a big smile and my long, red ponytail held high.

 One of the many Little Free Libraries Around Town 

@littlefreelibrary #littlefreelibrary

Kancamagus Colors

In honor of fall, my favorite time of year, I thought I would put up a little memory post in honor of the season. In autumn, the air is crisper, the breezes a bit cooler, and the leaves are starting to change.

While I think Minnesota can be quite pretty in the fall with the bright oranges, reds, and yellows creating a beautiful backdrop by the city lakes, it does bring me back to the memory of the prettiest place I've ever seen in the fall: The Kancamagus Highway. Winding through the White Mountains in New Hampshire, the colors are so vibrant, so polished, they look more like a New England painting than a real New England road.

So, as fall and its beautiful colors come to the Twin Cities, I will take my camera and my notebook and record some of the beautiful shades and moments around the area. But, I will always hold that memory of living in New England in my heart...because people still think the photos look fake because the scenes are just that beautiful - and all the winding roads through the history, the mountains, and along the ocean all resemble a painting of nature's best.

Kancamagus Highway

Free People & MOA

One of my best friends is as much of a Free People fan as I am. We love their flowing styles, comfortable fabrics, and free-spirited attitude...not a real big surprise with the blog name. I've gotten many great pieces over the years that I wear every time they're clean and hanging in the closet again.

When we were out and about a few weeks ago, we decided to head to the Mall of America. Many local people don't actually go to the mall to shop all that often, or if they do they hit the end they like for their favorite stores - or just enjoy a happy hour in one of their great restaurants.

We had heard there's an actual Free People - Mall of America Store  - not just the apparel available in department stores. On a rather dreary day that still resembled winter a little too much in Minnesota, we finally made it over there to look around. 

When we got to the front of the store it felt, quite frankly, like we had arrived at our mothership.We were not surprised by the layout of the store. It had all their great clothing, jewelry, and other cool accessories decorated in their famous Bohemian way...just as we expected. And the atmosphere of the place totally fits their apparel - open, fun, and adventurous. We lingered for quite some time. 

So, yes, we fit the profile - right down to the long, messy hair. But, we do it with style and attitude. The staff of the store had the same vibe - and even the dressing room had a fun, boho feel (I snapped a photo when my friend was trying on some skirts). When we go back, as I'm sure we will, I'm sure we'll find some other cool things we just have to have...and I'm sure there will be additional lingering.

The Dressing Room at the Mall of America Store

Springing Forward with the Full-Time Writing Gig

This full-time writing gig is pretty cool. I feel so fortunate. I have neglected the blog and other writing I usually do...but, no complaints. I love being a full-time writer. There's lots of variety...one day I'm writing about computers and technology, the next day I'm writing about fashion. It's pretty great. In the meantime, I'll touch base here and there on the blog until I can get caught up on everything else.

As winter drudges on and we barely get above zero degrees and rarely see the sun, I'm so glad that it's the first of March and not the end of November. Being this cold is much worse in November because you could have months ahead of you - of often brutally cold weather.

But today is the first of March! I can see spring coming...and for the first winter in as long as I can remember, the huge storms hitting the east coast seem to just keep passing us by.

I don't mind snow, but it's actually nice that this year we aren't so completely overwhelmed by it. For friends and family on the east coast, I know you're all very overwhelmed by one storm after another. But, by this time next year, it might very well be our turn again. For now, though, let's just look forward to a long awaited spring.

The Coolest Thing Happened...

Over the years, I've done a few different jobs that I've liked, but they were always to support the one thing I've wanted to do since I was very young: Write. I actually have a small card I carry around in my wallet: "Support your art, don't expect it to support you." But, I always hoped that one day I'd get that job that allowed me to write full-time, and that card would be gone.

Over the years since college, freelance work was there, but for full-time work, it was another story. I've been the writer who worked as an accountant, or the writer who worked as an organic chemistry manager, or the writer who worked as a social worker (great book material). Then the coolest thing happened a couple weeks ago: I became just the writer - except it isn't just anything. It's actually rather amazing.

My official title is Creative/Content Writer. I feel honored, and frankly, quite blessed. I get to write, edit, work on webpages, do some photography, work with some great people - and all at an innovative, tech savvy company. One word: Yay!

There's also the matter of appreciation. Things changed a lot and got pretty tough over the last couple of years - there were back surgeries for him, job changes for me, the loss of a couple good friends and family members. Plenty of time to be humbled a bit, and I learned a lot - making me all the more excited to do well.

But, who knew? And isn't that exactly one of the reasons it's interesting being a writer in the first place?

My original plans may have taken a few turns here and there, and I guess it just wasn't supposed to happen when I was twenty-five. But, it's funny that even with all the twists, I've still reached the right place going in the right direction. 

This one is, quite simply put, a keeper. It must be time to throw that card away.

Scarf Season

Let's face it, for scarf lovers, it's always scarf season. But, sometimes it's a little too warm to pull it off in the summer months - even in Minnesota. I prefer to wear mostly solid colors in shirts, dresses, and skirts, which usually means black or jewel tones, and the occasional crisp white. The patterns and textures are most often in the scarves and the other accessories I choose to put with my outfits. That usually means long necklaces, big hoop earrings, and lots of bracelets in silver, wood, or leather. I've always had that bit of a boho vibe.

I've lost count of how many scarves I have. There's the section on the front of my closet door that are my favorites - super long and easy to wrap around while still leaving some length in the front. Then there is the inside closet wall which has an IKEA Komplement hanger with scarves looped through all the spots, and then there is the collection of smaller silk scarves that have their own special drawer. To me it's the scarves that add the bright colors, shiny beads...and always lots of fringe.

I may not like what follows autumn as much, at least not after too many months of winter, but I love fall and I love pulling out my scarves and wrapping them around my neck, leaving them hanging long, or braiding them in my hair. But, there is just something so merveilleux et chic about scarves that makes me feel like I've really put an outfit together. Besides, they're warm, soft, and comfortable - and just plain fun to wear. 

So, as autumn approaches us and turns into colder weather, one of the best parts of it is having my favorite accessory to add to any outfit. Because whether it's a great little black dress or a t-shirt and jeans, a scarf adds that extra layer of chic that just pulls it all together like nothing else does. 

Piccadilly Prairie

A couple of days ago my twentieth publication came out, and it just so happened to be a really fun interview at one of my favorite shops in Minneapolis. I was also fortunate to do the photography on this assignment, and the owner of the shop is so talented and unique. As stated in my article in the Southwest Journal: 

When you walk by Piccadilly Prairie at 50th & Xerxes, a charming feeling invites you to come inside. Nestled on a corner that is filled with antique shops, this store stands out as a unique place with its own distinct vibe.

Opened three years ago, it has built a customer base that loves to see what has found its way to the shop. Store owner Lacey Brooker is proud her shop is different from everything else in the area. She considers it to be more of a vintage or occasional store, but it’s actually much more than that.

Besides all the vintage finds offered in the store - everything from furniture to jewelry - Brooker also does custom work. She works on sewing and painting projects for customers, as well as building furniture with her father-in-law, Art.  

“I do the designing, he does the building,” says Brooker. 

They use reclaimed materials and buy very little new. They find old wood to use, and even repurpose old hardware to put a design together. It gives even newly designed furniture a very unique, vintage feel that ensures that you have bought a truly one-of-a-kind piece. Says Brooker, “When we build things, we want to keep their authenticity, right down to the chains and hinges. It keeps that history to it.”

Her creations have a real richness to them that make them truly exceptional. Whether it’s an old piece or a designed one, there’s a story behind it that makes the furniture not just beautiful, but very intriguing as well. It can make decorating a home that much more interesting by mixing in vintage pieces with your current or new furniture - adding a touch of history and soul to an already established room. 

“I try really hard to show people how to incorporate vintage pieces in with what they already have of their own,” says Brooker.

Traveling around the world in her twenties probably helped give Brooker her sharp eye for great merchandise. She’s always looking for fun pieces, often taking trips out of town to find them. Perhaps that is why Piccadilly Prairie almost makes you forget you’re in the middle of South Minneapolis. It’s very reminiscent of a New England or European flea market, complete with a comfy couch and pillows right inside the front door. The fresh scent of soaps and candles, with Frank Sinatra singing in the background, adds to the atmosphere of a different era, complementing the unique pieces. Everything about the store is very intentional, adding to the overall experience. Brooker wants it to feel comfortable, homey, and quaint.

The store also hosts different events throughout the year, including a Paris Flea Market that lets people mingle, shop, and socialize while they sip wine. The next event coming up will be the Piccadilly Paint Party in late August. Brooker will have paint stations set up so customers can do a little creating themselves. Using the Cottage Paint she now sells, it will allow people to try out the special paint that gives furniture a vintage look with minimal preparation time.

Piccadilly Prairie is also another great way to shop locally, and to shop small. Instead of buying at a large conglomerate, the money spent at a small local shop goes back into the community. The customer also purchases something that not only has that history to it, but a sturdiness and personality that goes along with it. 

“I really love vintage,” says Brooker. “Pieces are made better with more character. They’re made to last a long time. Now things are made to be disposable. We also like redesign and upcycling, taking really classic lines and updating them into a modern vintage look.”

Piccadilly Prairie has a very fitting motto that fits the feel of the store quite well: “Yesterday's Materials. Today's Designs.”

“Vintage stores and occasional stores are basically the new antique store,” says Brooker. “It’s where antiques are headed.”

For some great little pieces of history, a feeling like you're in a different place and time, and interesting character, this store is just the best shopping experience!

 Brooker Sits in the Front Window of the Store. (Photograph by CY Hunter)

She Will Always Be Missed...

One of the things about losing someone close to you is that you really never stop thinking about them or wanting to share things with them. When my big sister called on what would have been our mother's 85th Birthday, it made a sad day better. And we talked about the things we just had to tell Mom.

I wish my mother could have lived to see today, and many years beyond. I wish she would have been healthy. I wish I would have seen her before she died. Those thoughts will always be there, but they're there along with the memories of a remarkable woman that I got to call Mom.

My sister and I have matching silver glass candle holders. We get them out and light a candle for special occasions in memory of our mother. As my sister and I hung up the phone tonight, I pulled my holder out of its little drawstring pouch, placed a new tealight candle inside of it, and lit the candle.

Lighting the candle produced a large flame that blazed above the candle holder, framed by a circle of dark smoke. A strange picture, but it needed to be captured. Besides, it might be that Mom just wanted to be a part of the conversation - and maybe even have the last word.

Being Really Young Doesn't Last Forever

I have friends of all ages, and when I worked in social services in the past, I had clients in their nineties. I see age as nothing more than a number. I'm no longer twenty, but I'm not old either. I find that for the most part, if you are an intelligent person and keep learning, you'll get smarter as you get older - and hopefully wiser too - which is a whole other matter. But in America, we are obsessed with youth. In film, in magazines, in fashion...even more so if you're a woman. It's actually all quite silly because why does it matter?

Once you get into your forties, there's a peace that comes with it. You get to know yourself better. You are more outspoken where you used to be more shy. You drive your life less by what other people think. You know your style and what works for you. You know what your strengths and talents are. And your friendships become stronger and deeper.

I am consistently guessed to be many years younger than I am. It might be my long hair, it might be because I was lucky to get my mother's skin, it might be my free-spirited attitude, it might be because I have a passion for life and an upbeat attitude. It might be a combination of all of the above. I don't hide my age and I'm glad I am where I am now. I make a point of being open-minded and staying current with music, with fashion, with computers - not because I want to stay young forever, but because I'm naturally curious and interested and want to keep learning. I know people in their sixties who seem younger and people in their twenties who seem older. So much of it's about the attitude.

I loved Europe when I was there a few years ago, and plan to go back again sometime soon. The history, the beauty, and the architecture in Europe is wonderful...but, France, in particular, is a huge draw for me. Since I used to speak fluent French as well, the idea of someday living in Paris or outside the city is something I plan to do when I'm older. One of the many cool things about the French: They think women of all ages are beautiful. They always have. They don't fight to stay young, they celebrate the age they are at. 

In an introduction to her short essay in Marie Claire, "Boiling Down That French Sense of Je Ne Sais Quoi," Garance Doré has a great quote that I just love: "Beauty comes from living an interesting life, not trying to freeze time."

"The 40s are when we grow into our real beauty, which is what we've earned by allowing ourselves to not worry too much about our appearance. In fact, I would say knowing herself is the biggest strength of the French woman. These are also the years when we become more precise with our beauty routines—perhaps a richer lotion, a visit to the dermatologist, a few Pilates classes or brisk walks. Next come the decades of being fully yourself, and your most desirable.

 And maybe that's the ultimate French beauty secret: We don't freak out too much about age. Wrinkles and little shadows under our eyes don't really count. Of course, if anything bothers us, we'll take care of it, but never within the fantasy of getting back to an age of innocence and naïveté—we just enjoy what we have without questioning it too much. As long as each day is lived to the fullest, we have nothing to regret—only to be thankful for the beautiful women we've become, inside and out."

How can you not appreciate that? Who cares if you have some wrinkles or don't look exactly like you did when you were twenty. I love my friends and family that are younger - and older - but, the obsession with youth is both limiting and boring. Just as diversity in race and culture makes things more interesting, so does diversity in age.

The truth of the matter is that youth is fun and free - and it seems like it will go on forever. But, it doesn't. And to fight to stay young forever doesn't offer up much for growth either. If you chase after youth like many Hollywood actresses do, it really limits your potential to grow into the person you are meant to become.

Maybe if we all accepted the fact that we'll age right along with everyone else and follow France's example a bit more, we'd be happier and more content - and much less worried about society's idea of what the ideal woman looks like. It just isn't reality. And I, for one, am quite thankful for that.