Post 4: Your parents.

Claudia and DJ. Out of all my friends and family members, I'm on the phone with them the most frequently and for the longest stretches of time. My favorite part about calling them is the salutation section of our conversation. It goes something like this:

Ring, ring, ring, ring...

Mom/Dad: Hello?
Me: Heeeeeey!
Mom/Dad: HEEEEYYYYY! Ruuuuuuth!

It makes me smile every time. Once, my mom gave me this weak hey, and I panicked. After refusing to admit what was wrong for several minutes, Mom finally admitted that...her flower seedlings just weren't coming along as planned. Thankfully, these are the low points I hear about from them.

My parents did not meet in college. My mother was already working as a medical technician in Grand Forks, ND, and my father had just returned from the Air Force, having already finished ag/forestry school (right?). My mother was working with Gail Meberg, who set the two up as two young people that were new or sort-of-new to town. They met for a date (perhaps a picnic?) and decided they would be friends, and just that.

My mother moved to Mountain View, CA, and when my dad decided to attend an (aviation mechanics?) school in Oklahoma, he surprised his own parents by decided to drive to Oklahoma by way of California. Heh. From there, phone calls continued, and my parents decided to get married.



They lived in Oklahoma for a bit...and decided Alaska would be the right step. My mom never said why they chose Alaska, but if you ask my dad, he'll tell you it's because they were as far away from their parents as possible. The mission wasn't to get away from their family, but to become two people that relied on each other and no one else. When Tim and I moved to Cincinnati after our first year of marriage, I knew my dad was really proud of us for taking on the same challenge. It makes me a little weepy to think about my dad being proud of the relationship Tim and I have built.



I haven't heard a ton of stories from my parents about their time in Alaska. They lived there at least seven years, if not more, because they had all their kids up there and we lived there until us twins were two. The only story my mother told me from their child free life was about going on a boat ride with friends and having to walk on the log bridge to a dock---I pictured single logs stringed together at the end with a rope strung along side as a hand rail. Mom said she completely panicked----she walked out a couple leg lengths and then froze and couldn't move no matter how hard she tried. A few people had to go out and get her, and it was really hard for me to picture my mom not being able to conquer anything; I've never seen my mom fail. Which might also explain extreme disappointment over seasonal seedlings.

If I could say anything to my parents today, it would be to apologize for years 12-18 of my life. I'm sorry for all of those typical under-developed frontal lobe/teenage things I did, and thank you for forgiving me over and over. Also, to thank them for pushing me to study music. I love you both so much, and thank you for your support and surprises.

A recap without photos.

Tim and I spent about two and a half weeks back in Fargo this year. Too much? No. Just perfect.

Stine family Christmas always hits the weekend before Christmas. We headed to La Crosse and stayed with Tim's brother, Scott, and his lovely wife, Liz, in their new home. A HOUSE. They have officially surpassed us in grown-up-ed-ness. Then Liz and I took the scenic route through Red Wing, MN to Minneapolis. Family, wine, food, all the best of the best were waiting for us, and Liz and I started a shopping partnership that will not be rivaled. We were shopping ninjas. Within a few shopping trips, we covered all areas of the family, and only a few got books (which I SOMETIMES consider a cop out). Boo yah! We got Tim's little brother this amazing book (not a cop out!)on skateboarding tricks, cause, you know, he's awesome. Liz got the Martha Stuart Encyclopedia of Crafts from us---one of those gifts you give but really want to keep.

The highlight of the Stine Family Christmas get together is always the Yankee Swap. Not because we get gifts, but the joy of watching people steal, re-steal, and barter (and by people I am referring to uncles that are members of AARP haggling over $10 bills and snuggies with eight-year-old nephews) for whatever the "it" gift of the season is. This year, it was a NDSU sweatshirt. The bummer gift? A hat in the shape of a giant cone decorated like a tree that played "Rockin Around the Christmas Tree" while tilting and swaying on your head. No one wanted it...too bad. Too bad for Uncle Paul, that is, cause now it's his.

Back to Fargo from there! And this year, our car didn't need a new battery, fail to produce heat, or die in a pool of oil once we made it back to NoDak. Yaaaaaaay. We headed to my sisters, Tim's Mom, and my parents home throughout the Christmas season, even through the three day blizzard. I think I'm losing my ND swagger---when Tim's mom sent him out for eggs on Christmas morning to the only gas station open in Fargo, I worried the whole time he was going to get stuck in a ditch (echo in my mother's voice: stuck in a ditch, stuck in a ditch, stuck in a ditch...) until he returned.

Then we headed to the Meberg Family Christmas. So many children! Children! Everywhere! From multiple siblings! I still have such clear memories of our childhood Christmas Eve nights/Christmas mornings at our farm when we were all still pretending to believe in Santa Claus. We'd pile up all the presents from Santa Claus (delivered from hidden places in the basement after 10:30 p.m., roughly) and count to see how many we each got. THIS IS HOW WE MEASURED OUR PARENTS LOVE.

Just kidding. But only sort of. Our parents were smart enough to keep it pretty evenly dispersed. Their favorite thing was stretching out after we opened all the presents under the tree and saying, "hmmmm...I think I saw Santa leave something for David on...THE BACK PORCH!" and we'd watch David scamper into the back porch and return with some sort of unwrappable gift. The best was my parents giving me an electric guitar kit in high school. Thanks, Santa. They also hid pool cues, a gun (for David), and fishing poles.

Anyway, did I mention there were lots of babies in our holiday vacation this year? Not only do I now have four nieces and nephews (two being under 1 year old), our married friends in Fargo have decided it's time to multiply and conquer. We went to a New Years Eve party where there were children aged one to seven. My immediate thought was, am I old enough for this type of party?

The answer is, yes. This environment did the opposite of what our mothers were hoping---we are even more assured that we are not ready to be parents anytime soon, but still love seeing our friends' babies grow. Especially Rowan and Linden. And especially Rowan. Yikes! Teg retuc, nawoR, Teg retuc! She's my favorite (photo to come illustrating cuteness).

One thing I did NOT get to do is go for a wintery run with my brothers and sister-in-law, which has been a Christmas tradition for the last few years. Why? Not only was my parents house too full for Tim and I to stay (we should have just split up for the night! What were we thinking? Apparently, we are unable to breathe without each other), Aaron and Kate were too busy campaigning for Best Uncle and Aunt, which they did eventually clinch. After all the uncles left town, Tim asked five-year-old niece Leah if Tim was her favorite uncle, and she honestly (and not shyly) replied "hmmm...well...you're my third favorite uncle." Out of how many? "Three." Ouch.

Friends: we did have enough time to spend one on one with friends. I got to spend a lot of time with my friend Julia, who might leave Fargo by the time head back again. My other friend Morgan is hoping to move in the next year, but Sarah is staying for good! Good for Sarah and her Norwegian roots! Also, got to spend an hour with my old boss, Ms. Margie Bailey. This woman's honesty, humor, and patience is parralelled by no one I know. Also, her jewelry choice is always reassuring.

Our last stop of the season was Tim's cousins' wedding. Not only was this great because we got to spend time with Tim's Grandpa Norman and several of his cousins, I also got to see Tim's mom sing for the first time. She sang the Lord's Prayer at the wedding, and Tim played guitar as well. Sometimes I forget that other families are not as talented as my family/families. And then I feel sorry for them and dream about how Tim and I will birth children playing miniature violins and singing in solfeg fresh out of the womb. Sorry, rest of you people.

Anyway, IT WAS AWESOME. We are back in Chicago and getting into a daily rhythm now that I am part of a car pool, eating no red meat, and scrimping and pinching for the next few months. Also, I'm signing up for the Chicago Marathon, the Cincinnati Flying Pig Half Marathon, and a spring triathlon! 2011 is the year I work myself to death! More on that later.

Sincerely,

Ruth in 2010

If mom let me write the Christmas letter this year.

Greetings family and friends.

Well, the Mebergs had a great 2008. One you will never top, so please save yourselves the effort and don’t even try---it’s heartbreaking to watch. Really.

Our beautiful and domestically talented daughter, Liz, and her husband Aaron, bought a new home in October and DJ and I were recruited to help move, store, and move, as their first house sold too fast. That’s right, Las Vegas homeowners, eat it up. They are now happy with a home that is large enough for the next addition to their genetically superior collection of children, Leah (age 4.5) and Ben (age 2.67). They are expecting the third lawyer/doctor/Nobel Prize winner in June.

David Meberg V and his Bismarck Beauty, Jess, spent December 22nd welcoming their perfect little peanut, David Meberg VI, into the world of man. It was painless birth, and while in labor Jess also managed to finish their Christmas shopping, pose for the cover of Gorgeous Parent magazine, and cure the common the cold while, all after her water broke. What a treasure she is! Leading up to the birth of their first child, David also ran two marathons this year, both in under 30 minutes. 2012 here we come!!

Aaron and his *clearing throat* Cape Cod raised wife, Kate, are also celebrating. They purchased and moved into their first home, complete with five car garage, pure gold rain gutters, and seven bidets. We won’t judge them for picking a fixer-upper---those artistic engineering types like to live on the edge!! Kate and Aaron also ran sixteen marathons this year, and rode from California to Maryland on a tandem bicycle. They‘ve sure learned to balance the good times and bad!!!!!! ;)

Ruth and her sensitive musician type husband, Tim Stine, are now living it up in Chicago, where Ruth has a job and Tim has fourteen. Proud parents of two massive prize winning alley cats, they are adored by their many friends and host dinner parties for their city’s elite----excluding their Governor, of course. He refused to bring a vegetable dip for pot luck unless everyone agreed to play Monopoly on Thursday Night Game Night. What a turkey! Ruth also finished a marathon this year without training or trying. She’ll have to work hard to keep up with her brothers!!!!!!!!!!

DJ and I? Oh, we spent the year renovating our twenty-five story home in Fargo, while also tending to the land and “roughing it” at our second home at the secluded Meberg/Mishe Compound (it’s in Hebron, ND. You probably haven’t heard of it---it’s very hush-hush). DJ enjoys riding his fifty different motorcycles and target shooting with his two hundred hand guns all at once, and I enjoy receiving awards for my gardening, sewing, and cinema production.

Yes, it’s a quiet life we lead, but we take pleasures in the little things.

May you have one-eighth of the blessings we have had this year,

the 'bergs.

Thanksgiving weekend.

Tim and I had a relaxing weekend in central Wisconsin with his dad's family. I got to spend lots of time eating and sitting, and Tim got to go skiing for the first time in about six years. I have a feeling his younger siblings (who do not use ski poles???) taught him a thing or to. His oldest sister has really improved on the piano, his youngest sister continues to have a tape recorder in her brain for all things said and done, and his little brother pretty much won Tim over. He's seven years old. And pretty awesome.

We made both trips, up to Wisconsin and back again, without much travel trouble. But somehow, after sleeping for 10 hours each night we spent at the Stine's, we are exhausted. Super sleepy. Like, totally, we are so slee-heepy that...so sleep-sleepy...

City View

City View
Originally uploaded by Ruth Ruthie Ruth

Back from New York and into another busy week. I took so many pictures this weekend and meant to post them here, but there's just too many. So instead I will sing this instead:

Cocoa Wheats, Cocoa Wheats, can't be beat.
They're the creamy hot cereal with the cocoa-y treat.
Make you big and strong,
and they're lots of fun,
Eat Cocoa Wheats, Cocoa Wheats, everyone!


I made cocoa wheats this Sunday after a long night out (from 5 p.m. to midnight) with Tim and his two good friends. Refreshed me like no other! And I relived, but just in my head, the ritual of my mother making Cream of Wheat or Cocoa Wheats (she only sang the song when she made Cocoa Wheats) on weekend winter mornings.

All four of the Meberg children lived on the second floor of our farm house, and we'd be nestled in our comforable, ceiling vent heated rooms when mom would open up the hallway door and yell "Breakfast! Get up!" and we'd all say, "um, mumble," and roll over.

And then she'd yell, "Hot cereal is ready!" and all of us, even the teenagers, would throw the covers back and think "HOT CEREAL! Golly jeepers!" and run down stairs. I liked the lumps, so if I was lucky they'd get pooled into my bowl. I remember the day when David chose sleeping in over creamy delicious Cocoa Wheats...quite a sea change.

This is just one of the many mind fixes my mother placed on us. She also trained us to dole out yogurt like chocolate during World War II, and that things like Oreo cookies and Nilla Wafers were understood to be for baking only --- no snackin or eating for pure pleasure allowed.

How, mom? How? You trained us so well.

Sage advice from the Chicago Transit Authority.

My older brother and his wife recently announced that they are pregnant with their first child, due in December. A couple weeks later my sister and I discussed our brother's potential parenting skills and wondered if he would actually be nice to his own child. Is this criticism? Skepticism? Rheumatism? No. Please refer to the following stories.

Dave is the brother that threw a rock at me from thirty feet away because I walked away from a game of one-on-one. He hit me in the neck and I whipped around and screamed "YOU HIT ME IN THE NECK!" He bounced the ball a couple times and cooly replied, "I was aiming for your face." He was probably fourteen at the time, but it was indicator that Dave followed, and continues to follow, a mantra: you only hurt the ones you love.

My family will vouch for this. When Dave's preschool teacher raved about a polite and well-behaved little boy in her class, Mom squinted her eyes and replied "my David?" When Sarah Lindgren, the friendly blond in our church youth group, invited freshman Dave to junior prom because he was "so sweet," my sister Liz and I exchanged looks of confusion and doubt. And when he got married to a beautiful, soft spoken woman named Jess, our family discussed how perhaps Jess would be able to "level Dave out," just like the rest of our spouses seemed to do for us and our tempers.

Dave just shows his love in slightly confusing spurts. When he started referring to my thirteen-year-old knees as grapefruits and different varieties of summer melons, I'm sure he meant "wow, those muscular legs of yours will take you far, little sister!" And when he threw that rock at my face, he was probably trying to teach me a lesson about walking away from a challenge or underestimating myself. He actually turned me into a pretty good basketball player by forcing me to practice jump shots while holding a large manure shovel inches behind my ankles so I would stop hopping backwards. He also ran my first half marathon with me, and tried really hard to teach his niece Leah to say "corn" only a few months before she learned to speak: "SAY IT, say cooornnnn. Corn. CORN. Say cooooorrrrrn." His face showed not only the confidence in his own coaching techniques, but also in Leah's capable baby brain. Leah's face displayed a look of desperation shared by everyone else at the dinner table as we watched her gesture, stretch, and whimper while Dave held the small cob in front of her like a carrot on a stick. Ah, family times.

David likes to push buttons, and he learned it from my dad. Their favorite thing to do is push each other to the breaking point and see who snaps first (usually it's Dad, depending on home turf and time of day). So when Dave and Jess announced they were having a boy, I pictured the same relationship unfolding and the same button pushing exchange to grow and mature between my brother Dave and his oldest son.

But I saw this sign at my local train stop, and remembered that Dave not only learned to push buttons and shoot a gun from Dad, he also turned into a serious snuggler and huggler. He is a purveyor, some would say, of the snugs 'n cuds. In college he routinely invited friends to spoon with him on the couch of his apartment, and last fall in Cape Cod he and Jess opted to share a twin bed for three nights rather than sleep apart. I know he will be a loving father to this new baby, and I can't wait to see the new family together at Christmas. So Dave, from the Chicago Transit Authority, to me, to you, here is a life lesson about riding on escalators and rearing children:

2008. Can wait.

We are finally home! We spent three weeks back in the northern tundra, a few days on the slowly warming streets of chicago, and about 10 hours traveling yesterday (train, bus, bus). I didn't post at all over vacation, because i basically threw up in my mouth when the thought of "responsibility" blipped across my subconscious. But understand, dear readers, Christmas break was more wonderful than I could have ever expected, although I was salivating for home by day eight. Why? Kitties (thanks, Nanny Noah and Dana).

Top 5 Highlights of 2007 Wunderbar Winter Wacation.
1. Duh, family. Kate (holiday running partner!) and Aaron, Dave and Jess, Liz and Scott/Aaron, Leah and Ben. I digress. We spent about 75% of our time with blood relatives, and we have no complaints. Other than we might have worn out our welcome. In several places. (below: Great Aunt Leona, Grandma Meberg, Leah and Ben)


2. Julia! Gwen! Morgan! Plus all the marrieds (Moriah's embroidered dog purse), Tim's music pals, etc. But I didn't get to see my friend Liz as much as I wanted to. (below: Sara welcomes 2008 with a smile)


I planned to share a table with Liz at the VFW, but instead her mountain of friends from Fargo South joined her before I could make my move and in retaliation she tragically chastized me for my relationship with a local folk singer (not my fault). However, I attempted to keep the bridge of friendship alive by sending her a small amount of my mom's cookies and a christmas photo from 2006. They are the only ones we have, okay? It's the thought, not the year. For an audio representation of Liz's reaction to this excuse, please click here.

3. Food. According to Jo Ann's scale (admittedly 2 pounds heavier than her doctor's scale) i weighed 168 pounds. Officaly, the heaviest I have ever been. What is the culprit??? Okay, my own will power. But also: Dad's jerky, cooking from two moms and one dad, MOUNTAINS of cookies from momma Claudia, soups and homemade CARE-a-mel and PEA-can turtles from Liz, as well as a trip to Alladin's for spinach pies with Julia, Buffalo Wild Wings with Meberg cousins for trivia, and a couple humus wraps at Atomic with Gwen. And lots of beer. And drinks. So, obviously, not my fault, just everyone else's.


Side note: my sister-in-law Liz (pictured below) can eat more than a mountain lion. And she's TINY. I think about 85% of her body mass is pure muscle (hope that is complimentary, don't really know what "body mass" means).

4. Planning for the future.
Taking a tour of MPR and American Public Media with Aunt Catherine was amazing. We got to see Gary Eichten in the broadcast booth, saw their music library, and just basically salivated. Did I mention that I want to live in public radio? Is that possible? I also realized that, duh, Morgan works for a public affiliate in Fargo, so she's also helping me reach my dreams.

Also, we checked out a couple apartments while staying with friend Kaye in Chicago. So much fun! Became attached to her neighborhood, access to the blue line, and did not love the snowy sidewalks. Was amazing to visit a Kentucky girl stuck in a midwest winter. Only thing that could have made the visit better would be Mai returning and joining us from Tokyo. Damn you, multi-cultural friends! Below is a car parked outside the perfect apartment we saw, which included a next-door market with hand-dipped chocolate covered marshmallows. Droooool.


5. Inspiration. Thank you Julia, Joshua, David, all Fargo friends.
Soon to come: my own television sculpture/installation. This photo is from Joshua and David's apartment, natch.


Coming soon...New Years resolutions.