Monday, December 6, 2010

Going to N'awlins!

I can't believe it, but it's true. I'm traveling to New Orleans to play my saxophone in the Mardi Gras parades next March! I never intended to go. In fact, I had pretty much decided not to, but got talked into it. It all started when I decided on a lark, to play with the Edison High School Alumni Marching Band in the St. Patrick's Day parade in Minneapolis in March 2010. I had so much fun that I also played in the Aquatennial parade, the Northeast Parade and the St. Anthony Villagefest parade. In late summer, talk began circulating about how the band had been invited to perform in several Mardi Gras parades in New Orleans. Playing in town was enough excitement, I decided. I didn't need to add the expense and separation from family of flying out town. However, prior to one of the performances, a flute player named Kim approached me and asked if I was planning to travel to New Orleans. I said "No, I've already been to Mardi Gras," Kim said, "Do it for the band. We really need woodwinds." I was taken aback by this, and went home to think it over. Next thing I knew, I was buying a plane ticket, and planning to go after all.

The folks back home can watch us live on the telly. We'll be featured on the 5 o'clock news on KARE-11 in Minneapolis on Saturday, March 5th. Wish me luck as I practice and prepare for the trip of a lifetime!

Monday, November 8, 2010

Please donate to Hooved Animal Rescue Benefit

As a volunteer for the Minnesota Hooved Animal Rescue Foundation, I am seeking donations of baked goods, money (to purchase baked goods), and silent auction items for an upcoming fundraiser. A bake sale and silent auction will be held on
Saturday, Nov. 20th from Noon to 4 p.m., in conjunction with the Sunrise Equine Veterinary Services’ (North Branch, MN, sunriseequine.com) Annual Open House and Client Education Day.

All bake sale and silent auction proceeds will benefit the Minnesota Hooved Animal Rescue (mnhoovedanimalrescue.org). All are welcome to attend this free event. There will be educational programs about horse care, door prizes and refreshments.

WAYS YOU CAN HELP:

• Drop off baked goods (pies are especially popular at this event) at my house on Nov. 18 or 19.
• Mail me a check, and I will use the money to buy high quality baked items at A Baker’s Wife pastry shop in South Minneapolis.
• Mail or drop off silent auction items at my house. Must be received by Nov. 19.

My address is:

Janet Lenius
910 Main Street NE
Minneapolis, MN 55413

Donations are tax deductible. I will be dropping off all items at Sunrise Equine on the morning of the event. Please call me with any questions at 612-331-5175. Thank you in advance for your donation!

— Janet Lenius

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

TONIGHT: The 3rd Ward Neighborhood Fest


Tonight I am exhibiting at a wonderful gathering at the Nicollet Island Pavilion from 6-9 p.m., called the 3rd Ward Neighborhoodfest. Many businesses will be exibiting, and you can find out about neighborhood projects, the Habitat for Humanity project in north Minneapolis with former President Jimmy Carter, plus enjoy free food and entertainment. Hope to see you there!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Courtney Love Rocks First Avenue

I went down to "the hole" (First Avenue nightclub) to see the band Hole Friday night, and despite their very late start, was glad I went. Courtney Love turned 46 the day before the show, making her my contemporary. She still has the Seattle Grunge style, and really rocked out, playing her hits such as "Doll Parts," and even a Replacements song. She came across as a "female Kurt Cobain" -- raw, voicing her frustration in screams that punctuated her songs. I did not care for her free use of profanity, but admired her ease at talking to the audience. She talked about Minneapolis landmarks that no longer exist, such as Goofy's bar, where she wrote one of her songs. At one point during the show, she stopped a song to berate her 20-year-old guitarist for not understanding how significant First Avenue was in her life (she "basically lost her virginity in the bathroom!"). Then she apologized to the guitarist and the audience for her difficulty with intergenerational communication. The only weak part of the show were her two ballads, and I took that opportunity to duck next door into the 7th Street Entry to check out a band I know that was performing there called "Gotterdammerung." Friends watching that show were interested to hear my review about Courtney's show, as they did not buy tickets so could not "cross over" as I could. I loved how she strutted onto the stage in six-inch heels, then announced that she was done wearing those and would not change into flats, which she pulled out of her purse. ("These are cute flats, not practical shoes!, she said defensively.") Courtney ended the show with an acoustic ditty she called "Good Night Minneapolis" -- a send-off as sweet as a good-night lullaby.

An Incredible Week

With three kids, a business, home and marriage, I have a pretty active life. However, last week was even more of a whirlwind than usual. Here are the highlights:
  • Sunday - Daughter Tacy departs for her first week of overnight camp in Loretto.
  • Monday - Met at music teacher's house with seller to purchase a gorgeous 3/4 size guitar for Tacy (to surprise her with when she returns home from camp). In p.m. attended tap dancing class at Zenon Dance School.
  • Tuesday - Had my first Pilates reformer personal training session with Gail at the downtown Y. Love how that machine really makes you balance and coordinate your body. Evening: attended Joan Baez concert at the Minnesota Zoo with David. It was a gorgeous evening, listening to a living legend and her glorious set of pipes and wonderful guitar playing. Talented backup band, too.
  • Wednesday - Departed home at 3:30 p.m. and spent the evening volunteering at the WECAN (Women's Education Career Advancement Network) event at the Doubletree Hotel in St. Louis Park. It was a great night of networking and laughter, as we were entertained with a presentation by the Brave New Workshop comedy troupe.
  • Thursday - Attended the Turnquist Child Enrichment Center's (the girls' day care) ice cream social in the evening. It was an idyllic night, and we got to hang out at Bottineau Park with other parents and their kids, eating free pizza and ice cream.
  • Friday - In the morning, I had a doctors' appt., where I got my new IUD and learned that my endometrial biopsy results had came back normal. What a great relief! At Noon I took a ballet class at Zenon Dance School. Immediately following, picked Tacy up at camp, 45 minutes each way in an unairconditioned car. Late Evening: biked downtown to First Avenue nightclub and saw Courtney Love and Hole in concert. She strode onstage at 12:45 a.m. and played until bar closing at 2:00 a.m. As I biked home along First Avenue, I was greeted by the intimidating sight of four police horses lined up across the street, ready to keep rowdy bar patrons from rioting.
  • Saturday - Attended a free concert with the kids at Orchestra Hall. We enjoyed lovely music by Mozart, Vivaldi, Holst & St.-Saens. Bonus: the kids were all well behaved! Afterwards, we checked out a jazz band around the corner at the Dakota Street Fest and saw incredibly talented tap dancers performing on Peavey Plaza, right next to Orchestra Hall.
  • Sunday - (Okay, technically, this belongs to the following week, but it follows a string of amazing days so I'm including it.) We moved our bedroom into the downstairs front room, which I spent many hours painting during the past two weeks. Afterwards, we were exhausted, finally eating dinner at 11 p.m. However, it was great to finally move into the room. The girls are ecstatic to FINALLY get their own bedroom!!!!

Friday, April 9, 2010

Other Blogs to Check Out

Here are some blogs I am following:

Monday, March 15, 2010

Book Review: "The Courage to Raise Good Men" by Olga Silverstein

The Courage to Raise Good Men by Olga Silverstein is rather lofty and intellectual, and it takes a bit of work to get through it. Despite this, it is worth reading, and I enjoyed the many literary and historical references. Silverstein goes into depth about how cultural expectations affect how we treat boys at each stage of life, including the men they turn into and what wives often end up dealing with. She said that we expect boys to leave home at precisely the age of 18, whether they are ready or not, and mothers withdraw from them much earlier emotionally to “toughen them up” for the time they are going to be kicked out of the nest. This creates a lot of problems that they and the people they end up in relationships with pay for later on. The same standards are not in place for girls, and support for them is generally stable throughout their lives.

Based on the book, I am changing my attitudes and behavior towards my 14-year-old son.
What a gift to have this knowledge and new perspective while there is still time to use it! Instead of pressuring him to leave the house at 18 and attend college far away, I will try to keep several options open. Perhaps staying at home for a while and helping with cooking and cleaning will be what he wants to do for a while after graduating from high school. Or maybe he will want to try living on his own, only to discover that it was not all it was cracked up to be and wants to come back home and regroup. Maybe he will want to live in his own apartment, but would like to call me on the phone for advice or practical tips. This won't be about letting him "freeload" -- we will make sure that we as a family find a solution agreeable to all members, and make sure he contributes his fair share towards his upkeep. My goals is to being present for him and to listen (and hear!), instead of superimposing my own hopes and dreams on him.

If anyone else has read this book, I'd love to hear your opinion!

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Still reeling from the death of Elke Vossen

More than a year later, I am still stunned by the death of YMCA fitness instructor Elke Vossen. This wild, red-haired German ball of energy entered into my life in early 2001, shortly after the birth of my second child, when my husband encouraged me to take early morning fitness classes. This strategy was going to help me fit exercise into the early part my day, so that I would have the rest of the day to get work done. I arrived at the club, bleary eyed, at 6 a.m., and the check-in person informed me that the class was on the sixth floor, near the basketball court. After trudging upstairs to 6th floor, I saw that my classroom was at the far corner of the basketball court. I set up my exercise bike and had no idea about how wild the ride was to be. With her husky German voice almost at a scream, I felt like I had entered the realm of a crazy person who was not going to ever end the class, and would never let me escape the room. How Elke differed from other spin instructors I'd had in the two years since I had started the sport was how totally she threw herself into the workout. She herself worked out with such total abandon that it was infectious for the rest of us admiring souls who wanted to be just like her. For nearly eight years I attended her Wednesday and Friday morning spin classes, as well as her yoga class after the Friday spin. I often would show up a few minutes after class started, and that unmistakeable "ho-ho-ho" or "use the body" would greet me at long distance through the microphone as I approached the classroom.

Over the years she grew from being just a fitness instructor to a role model. She traveled back to Germany twice per year, and all of her students would lament how much we missed her. We were happy -- almost relieved -- when she would return, rewarding our wait with sackfuls of German chocolate bars. She would distribute these during class, walking around and setting a small pile on the floor in front of each biker, like a sweaty Easter bunny.

I never met her socially outside of class, but a few memories stand out about things she said to me at the Y. Once she approached me while I was stretching after class in another area of the Y. She said, "You have such beautiful, strong legs." I was touched and flattered at this spontaneous compliment from someone I so admired. In 2008 I began to bring family members to the Y, so that they could also meet her. I sent my husband to work out in my place one morning, while I took care of the kids. I also brought in my son Tiernan, age 13, a few times. On one of those occasions Elke advised him to "kick your mom's butt!" (he took her advice). I had planned to bring my daughter Tacy, age 7, to meet her one evening after I picked her up from the Y child care downstairs, timing the meeting to occur before Elke's step class. Tacy attends a German immersion school, and for years I had been telling Elke about it. I thought she would be proud that my child was learning her native language. The day before this meeting was to occur, I attended Elke's early morning spin class, which began as usual, with loud exciting music and Ron, a regular in class, ribbing Elke that she ought to quit walking around and work as hard as the rest of us. I was on "my" bike in the front row. A few minutes into class, Elke was standing up and biking hard, when she sat down on the bike and I thought I heard her say, "My foot." The next thing I knew, she was lying on the floor next to her bike, and several people had rushed to her side to see how they could help. She lay motionless, unable to speak. An ambulance showed up and she was carted off on a stretcher. None of us had any idea at the time how serious her accident had been. A major stroke kept her in the hospital for a week, with doctors frantically working to save her. A Caringbridge website was set up to allow friends and family to follow her progress. The posts, maintained by friend and fellow fitness instructor Tammy Jacobson, said she was not improving. A week later, our beloved Elke, aged 53, was dead.

Its been over a year, and although other instructors have resumed Elke's classes, the Y is not the same place without her. Her force-of-nature personality brought so many diverse people together, working towards the common goal of peak fitness, that the loss was tremendous. I think being in the front row of class and witnessing Elke's final words and actions added to the impact on me. We still miss you, Elke. RIP.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Why do I take ballet class?

I've been taking ballet class at Zenon dance school for a few years now, and am wondering if anyone else feels like their purpose in the class it to make the other students look good. I have heard that ballet accesses the part of the brain that does math, and maybe that is why it is so frustrating for me to learn, and so rewarding on the occasions when I finally do "get it." It's not that the teacher is mean -- quite the contrary, Becky Stanchfield has got to be the sweetest teacher you could ask for. But maybe I have a block against becoming adept at this kinesthetic skill. Does part of my brain has a low opinion of becoming good at dancing (it was all those years as a tomboy)? Or maybe it is harder for me to learn because I started this form of dance as an adult. Ironically, I think it has helped my coordination in every day life, and I think it also keeps my brain flexible in every day life (those math skills again). After leaving dance class, I feel like other aspects of life are a breeze. It is flattering getting occasionally asked if I am a dancer. However, it is costly, often frustrating (I don't understand many basic steps and have trouble remembering combinations), and inconvenient getting to classes. I'm interested in hearing from other adult ballet students. Why do you take ballet, is it easy to pick up, and is it benefiting you in secondary ways?

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Two deaths in two days

On Friday, I checked on poor Gus the Guinea pig and found him stiff, with his nose against the cage bars. Tacy sobbed when she found him; we gave him a memorial service later on that evening. Also on Friday, I made a visit to North Memorial Hospital, to visit my dying uncle Lyle. The family said he was expected to die any day, so I told him I love you and thank you for all the good memories, such as when he gave me away at my wedding. I admire my cousin, Paul, for maintaining a round-the-clock vigil at his bedside. That afternoon I took the kids out to Lyle after school. The girls just looked at Uncle Lyle, as I don't think they remembered him much, just as an old guy who smoked and had a hard time walking. However, Tiernan spent some time talking to him and holding his hand. Tiernan started crying at the bedside. After we left the hospital, I asked him what he thought, and he said that Lyle had been crying, moving his mouth and moving his hand up and down. I said that I thought Lyle's eyes had just been watering. Tiernan clearly felt like Lyle had been communicating with him through his tears and movements. I am proud of Tiernan for having the emotional sensitivity to pick up on that. Today my cousin, Gay, called me to let me know Lyle died at 4:00 p.m. RIP, Lyle. May you find peace in heaven.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Guinea Pig sickness

Today my 9-year-old daughter took her Guinea pig to school. He was quite popular at show-and-tell. Unfortunately, the little piggy is not acting well and we have to take him to vet tonight. Has anyone else with Guinea pigs had them suddenly quit eating, act lethargic and have weepy eyes. 'till text time...

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Deadbeat employers

Last year I was hired to do some editing on a rush basis by a well-known editor, Biodun Iginla. He is a BBC correspondent, so I thought he would be responsible to a fellow editor. He wanted me to do the editing on a weekend, a time I normally reserve for family life. However, he was asking me to do this as a friend, so I buckled down and delivered the edited chapter, working frantically on a Sunday morning while my kids watched videos in the next room. It has been nearly 10 months now and he has not paid me for the five hours of work I did. In that time he has made multiple trips abroad, and even came over to our house for dinner, but has not paid up. I have tried phone calls, e-mail reminders, and even sending Paypal invoices. It amounts to just over $100. To add salt to the wound, the last time I met with Biodun, he asked me to buy him cigarettes and French fries. Does anyone have any advice on how to get someone who is posing as a friend to pay up?

Arguing about semantics with kids

Last night at the kids' bedtime I found myself in a screaming match with my nine-year-old, who was trying to enforce an instruction to my five-year-old to get into her bed. Without asking if I wanted her help, the nine-year-old pushed the five-year-old, causing her to bump her head. This caused the five-year-old to cry and me to accuse the nine-year-old of performing unasked-for enforcement. The nine-year-old responded by denying that she was enforcing. She thinks that she can call it by a different name she are not actually committing the crime! My 14-year-old was a master at this type of name-changing. Does anyone else out there struggle with their kids changing the term defining what they are doing in order to avoid being called on their behavior?

-- Hoarse parent in Minneapolis

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Life In The 2010s

This is my first post, and I hope to post many more this year, and hope that at least some of them are interesting!