I returned from Denmark a week ago. It's been a whirlwind trying to get over jet lag, get back to work and catch up on everything at home. The last few nights I've been hammering out a paper to report on the conference I attended on Social Banking in Europe. It's been so crazy that I haven't had time yet to write my impressions of the trip.
The first week in Denmark was spent cycling alone across the main island, starting in Copenhagen and heading gradually westward toward the mainland. It was the kind of solitary week that I really need once in a while to recharge my batteries. Denmark is a lovely country for cycling, and the quiet peaceful miles gave me plenty of time to think. When I get more time I'll post some photos from that week.
When I arrived at the conference near Arhus, I was thrown back into the world of people. There were over 80 participants from all over Europe, with a few from India, Pakistan, Nigeria, and South Africa. I was the only American. It was an extremely diverse group, but there were a number of young people around my age and we had some really positive conversations. About social banking, about our cultures, and about life in general.
I realized at the conference that I am basically starved for intellectual stimulation. No person can be summed up with a single label, but I definitely have an "intellectual" side (i.e. having intense conversations about topics that most people find inane). And it's clear that I am not getting enough time with that part of my personality, because I just soaked up the conference like a sponge. It was fantastic to hear so many divergent viewpoints, so many conflicting opinions, so many intelligent people with something to say and the courage to back it up with action. It was like the university experience some people talk about but that I didn't experience in my conformity-minded church college. I was really inspired.
Now I get to come home and turn that inspiration into action myself. I'm still not sure where to start. I love the idea of being in a community where I can express my opinions openly and be understood, and even challenged. I also know that I and my family have a lot of other needs that are wonderfully met by the community we belong to now. It's a balancing act. I suppose you never find the perfect balance, but I definitely have another arrow in my quiver that I'd like to use a little more often.
Another note: I brought a book along and read it on the airplane. "Steppenwolf" by Hermann Hesse. It was incredibly timely. The book addresses the whole idea that people do not have a single personality or "side", but that they are many-faceted and very complex. I highly recommend it to anyone who is even a little bit interested in exploring the concept of "self" and self-perception.
Well it's my first morning in Copenhagen, Denmark. I'm spending a week traveling and camping by bike, then another week at a conference for my master's thesis. I brought my folding bike and I have to say that Denmark is the most incredibly cycle-friendly country I've ever seen. There are so many people on bike (first time I've had to ride in bicycle traffic) and every major road has a dedicated cycle lane and intersection lights. It's much more convenient than taking public transportation and backpacking (which has been my staple for travel transportation).
Today I'm headed to see Helsingor (Elsinor from Hamlet) and the north part of this island. I'm slowly making my way by bike and ferry westward across several islands to the mainland where my conference starts on Sunday.
Yesterday I spent an hour at the public library, alone, browsing through the aisles. The public library has been one of the most constant institutions in my life. At some point in my early childhood I became closely attached to books. I think I probably saw reading as a way to create an identity: I would read well and be smart, other people would be popular, athletic or cool. The small library in our Oregon town struggled to find a permanent home. Sometimes it was in it's own rented space at the strip mall; other times it was tucked away in a nook at Safeway, or relegated to the Bookmobile. But in each location I have strong and positive memories of visiting the library and finding a sense of identity in the books.
My relationship with libraries and book stores since childhood has grown even closer. During high school I would ride my bicycle 15 miles one way just to visit the larger public library of a neighboring city. My grades as a college freshman were poor partly because I couldn't stay away from the enormous university library, where books on subjects other than those in my classes kept me up late on weekends. While my classmates were discovering the social liberation of college life, I was discovering five floors of seemingly endless shelves, with nooks and corners all to my own on Friday nights. As a working adult, I make a habit of visiting the local libraries in any town where I travel. I have been in huge library palaces in New York, dusty oppressive libraries in St. Petersburg, tiny forgotten libraries in Russian villages, and creaking, musty libraries all along the plains of Kansas. I've sought aloneness among the crowds at Powell's in Portland, and in the silence of a basement room that I optimistically call my own library.
I've come to realize that it is not necessarily the books themselves which make libraries an attraction: it is the aloneness. I have an extraordinary need to be alone during my free time, and the dark, twisting labyrinth of shelves provides the needed space for my thoughts. I dislike crowded libraries, and will even stoop to hiding in the children's section if it means that I can think undisturbed.
The last few years have kept me more aloof from the library. I spend most of my time working outside, creating the landscape and finding solitude in manual labor and the outdoors. When I do return to the library, I immediately sense that old feeling of coming home, of belonging to the quiet stillness of the place. And I realize that even though I've changed, the books are still inside me, and will always welcome me back.
Here are some family photos from the last two months. The entire album is also at our Picasa site.
Nadine had her birthday in April. She's going home soon and we'll miss her!
Kayla and I had our choir concerts in April, in Spokane and Bonners Ferry. This is the first year Kayla has been able to join our community choir.
We went on a hike to Snow Creek Falls. The water was roaring with all the snowmelt.
Our friends the Ipsens came up and visited one day. Kayla and the kids took them out to see the wildlife refuge.
We planted the garden for Mother's Day. I experimented with a new way to even the ground for planting peas (using a board).
Two weeks ago we went on our first camping trip of the year, to Green Bay on Lake Pend Oreille. It is hands down the best place to camp in our neck of the woods, and we had the entire peninsula to ourselves.
Our new tent is completely waterproof!
Hyrum had a birthday celebration at school, even though it's not his birthday until the summer!
Ah.... I finished my first year of graduate school yesterday. Our last class session was in early May but we've been submitting final exams and projects for the last couple weeks. Toward the end of the schoolyear I was starting to doubt my initial motivations for taking on an MBA program while working. I have to say (being halfway done) that I'm still glad I signed up for this grueling two-year sprint. It's already enriched my career in many areas. Now I'm ready for summer!
Here are some photos from the last two months. You can see the complete album here.
A children's theater came to town a month or so ago. It was an interesting setup: they ran auditions at the beginning of the week, rehearsed all week and performed on Friday and Saturday. Nadine played one of the Merry Band in a production of Robin Hood (she's the left-most in the back row).
I missed the Easter egg decorating but apparently the kids had fun. We tried Nadine's method of blowing out the eggs first so you don't get that horrible boiled egg smell permeating through the house.
The Easter egg hunt at the park was also a success.
For Spring Break, we went to Seattle to visit Nathan and Monica and some friends we met while living in Kansas.
Monica suggested we visit the Fremont Bridge Troll, a concrete sculpture under a bridge. The troll is gripping a VW Bug in its hand.
Jeremiah and Nathan got along really well. Jeremiah was begging for Nathan to play with him every minute of the day.
Kayla and the kids went up the Space Needle while Madeleine and I strolled around the grounds.
The boys were so happy to play with their friends. Our friends have one boy and four girls, and I think he was glad to have Hyrum come visit.
On the way out of town we stopped by the LDS Temple and had a walk around the grounds.
The boys were glad to be home. A couple of days ago we had the neighbor kids over to play in the sandbox. The weather has finally warmed up and Spring is on its way!
We spent a long weekend in Seattle. On Friday it snowed all day, and (surprisingly for this time of year) the snow stuck to the ground overnight. Saturday we had a morning of decent weather, then heavy rain. The last few days were much better, cool with sunshine.
We stayed with some friends in Lynnwood and I went on several bike rides. We did the obligatory spring break visits: Space Needle, Science Center, Pike Place. We also visited some interesting landmarks, including Gasworks Park and the Fremont Bridge Troll. This was Nadine's first trip to a city since she first landed in New York last August, so it was a big deal. Lots of shopping! I got zero homework done, and felt good about it. The kids had a great time playing with friends and visiting Uncle Nathan and Aunt Monica.
One of my tasks while in the big city was to buy a bicycle for my trip to Denmark this July. I have a conference to attend for my MBA program, and the week before the conference I plan to cycle and camp in one of the world's most bicycle-friendly countries. I have a solid road bike, but wanted to get something more appropriate to touring and the possibility of the occasional unpaved road. The airlines, in an attempt to shore up revenues under rising fuel prices, have jacked up the fees to transport bicycles (Northwest charges $150 each way). I worked out the math and came up with three options: buy a bicycle and transport it, rent a bike in Denmark, or get a folding bicycle that would fit in a suitcase (and thus avoid airline fees).
I went with option #3, which at first blush seems a little strange. I wasn't familiar with folding bikes at all and thought they were something of a gimmick. However, renting and shipping were both unappealing because I am basically throwing that money away, when with a folder I have something to keep at the end of the trip. I did my research and found several options that are appropriate for touring and that would still fit in airline-approved luggage.
There are just a handful of companies that build decent folding bikes for touring, in descending order of quality and price: Moulton, Bike Friday, Birdy, and Dahon. Since this is my first folding bike I had no intention of plunking down $3,000 on a Moulton. I opted for a mass-market Dahon MU P8 which cost about $650 with racks and fenders.
My wife laughed when she first saw a photo of the bike, but after checking them out at a Seattle bike shop she agreed it would work well. Despite the 20" wheels, the bike has a great feel. Best of all, it's a simple and straightforward machine that you can take anywhere. I ordered from a shop in New York and should be able to take it on its first spin sometime next week.
We had my mom, sister and brother up for Easter this year. It was beautiful and sunny the day before, but Easter was cold with a mixture of snow and rain all day. Below is some video footage of the family.
The girls are out of town this weekend, so I spent the day with my two sons. It turned into a beautiful spring day with huge white clouds and sunshine reflecting on the snowy mountains. We turned a corner of our patio into a sandbox using some landscape blocks left over from our wall project. The truck, which has been buried under a layer of snow for the entire winter, took a while to start (I forgot to unhook the battery last fall). We finally got going this afternoon and drove to a forest road where a huge sand bank is exposed. I shoveled about a square yard of north Idaho sand for our new sandbox while the kids ran around. It was really a great find... clean, natural sand with absolutely nothing intermixed. When we got everything put together the boys spent an hour digging and arguing about who owned which part of the sandbox. All in all, a success!
Friday night I went down to Spokane to see my mom, who has been busy with her estate sale. She had an incredible turnout the first day, and when I arrived most of my dad's stuff had been sold. I did have a chance to walk through the shop and think about dad and all the memories associated with each remaining item. It surprised me how a simple object can bring back a flood of thoughts and associations. It's strange that the most important memories of our lives can be so well defined and remembered by association to trivial physical objects. Walking through dad's shop I can still see him in there, puttering around and looking for a misplaced tool in a sea of mechanical detritus. In the last few years some of my best moments with him were out in the shop or in the garden, talking about things we shared in common. I'll miss him. And, ironically, I'll miss the junk that reminds me of him.
