ch . . .ch . . .ch . . . ch . . . changes . . .

Disregard my complaining about fall -- we're done with fall! That's right, regardless of what the calendar may tell you, it is now WINTER in Minnesota, and every newscaster and everyone you meet in every grocery store or McDonald's line or wherever is saying the same thing: "Can you believe it? You never think it will happen and then it DOES." Same thing every year, so I'm not sure why we never think it will happen. Or why we're surprised when it does.

All I know is I was at the dog park with Cooper last Friday and he was romping around in the duckweed-filled water and having a grand old time. It was cold, but we have yet to find water too cold for Cooper. He does not seem to feel cold, pain, restraint, or remorse. Just never-ending enthusiasm.

Then I took him to the dog park on Tuesday, and the dogs were walking around ON THE LAKE. That's right -- like it had never occurred to anyone that the water had ever been liquid. That's just how we roll in Minnesota. So I guess we should get used to it.

But change is just so gosh-darn hard to process, isn't it?



We've been enduring the most insufferable senate election imaginable (it's not over yet -- too slim a margin so now we get to have a recount) and the thing about it that has driven me nuts is that Al Franken (of SNL fame) is one of the candidates and this fact has made the campaign U-G-L-Y. Because forget that he's Harvard educated, forget that he has some amazingly smart ideas (I truly believe that comedy requires great intelligence -- that's 90 percent of it) and that our incumbent senator hasn't been really stellar, forget all those things -- HE USED TO BE A COMEDIAN AND SOME OF HIS HUMOR WAS NOT "MINNESOTA NICE", as we call it here. And that has caused the campaign to be downright "Minnesota nasty". Because We Must Not Allow Al Franken To Change.

It's a little like a mother who still treats her adult children like she did when they were children. I should know, because I'm just picking my way through that particular strange minefield right now (What? My children are adults???!!!) But as much as it's true that some things never change (including people), it's also true that everything is always changing, including people.

We just better buckle up and hang on and take some Dramamine when we need it, because it's going to be a bumpy ride -- a bumpy ride like Space Mountain, because they keep the lights off so we can't see the hills. Which is probably just as well.

Here's the conversation I had with Lindsay at lunch the other day. I don't remember how we got to this point in the conversation, but for some reason I casually dropped the line that "Grandma and Grandpa (my parents) have started quilting."

L: I don't know what you mean.

S: I mean Grandma and Grandpa have started quilting.

L: I don't know what you mean.

S: I mean that Grandma and Grandpa have started making quilts. Together. It's their new hobby. They even go on ebay and buy quilt tops so they can quilt them. Together.

L: I don't know what you mean, "making quilts."

S: I mean, Grandma and Grandpa are making quilts.

L: Making quilts, like making them? Quilts? . . . Grandpa is making quilts? Grandpa. . . . making quilts . . . with his hands. Grandpa is making quilts with his hands????!!!

The conversation was something just like that. I admit, I had the same reaction when I first heard it -- in all fairness, I've been processing this information for about a month now so I'm no longer screaming "with his hands???!!!" incredulously in public places.

Sometimes perhaps we need to consult reference material to process these kinds of things.




Yes, my father is still who I thought he was.


Yes, a grandpa is still what Lindsay thinks it is.

But you may as well tell me that my parents have started globetrotting around the world together.

My mom doesn't travel. She has spent a good portion of her life unable to travel due to illness, and in fact, at some points unable to leave the house for months and months and months.




But wait a minute -- in the past ten years, they have been around the world, so many times I've actually lost count. I think 4, or maybe 5. Anyway, it's unthinkable.

Or you may as well tell me that my parents have become such dog lovers that a dog has taken over their entire world.

We only had two very ill-fated dog attempts growing up. One dog ate the living room curtains and the other ate my little sister's head. Neither situation ended well. After that my mom adopted the credo that "we aren't dog people."




But wait a minute -- they do have a dog that they talk incessant baby talk to and that dominates their every waking moment. Has the world gone mad? Obviously.

Both of these facts make me positively gleeful. Anything is possible, and I mean anything.

Glenn & Gary McCoy

Just ask my dad's mother, who was a prolific quilter, because somewhere she is having a long, long, long belly laugh about this whole thing. She is laughing so hard she can't breathe. His father is probably just muttering something like "Well I'll be damned. He's making quilts. With his hands!!!", and some other things not suitable for print here. The kinds of things Al Franken's been in so much trouble for, now that you mention it.

I'm just going to adjust this seat belt a little tighter, check to see that my airbags are functioning. Because I can't imagine what might be next.

As for the quilts themselves, those are going to have to be seen to be believed.


And I can't wait.