"This Is Most Certainly True": Pam's Family Scrapblog

Happy Birthday to Florence!

2012-01-20T11:01:00.000-06:00

Happy Birthday, dear Florence! We wish you all the best today. And many more! Love, The Cousins

A cousin is wed

2012-01-03T02:57:00.002-06:00

Warm congratulations to cousin Nathan Pepin, son of Steve and Patty, and his bride, Jen Stafne! They were wed last week in a small civil ceremony in Red Wing, Minn., and plan a larger celebration in May. Nathan, who just left the Marines, is starting an excellent job in Ames, Iowa. Jen is a dietitian.

Belated Christmas cheer from a few of the cousins

2012-01-03T02:55:00.001-06:00

Your scrapblog editor is woefully late with this posting, but Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Feel free, cousins, to send me photos from your holiday gathering to post here. Here are a few:

Ho ho! It's that nice cousin Sammy!

The Miller girls get all festive. They are Avamarie, 3; Hannah, 18; Moriah, 20, and Elizabeth, 8.

Surprisingly, our surviving geratric cat, Turtle, almost 15, rather likes 3-year-old Avamarie (most cats are afraid of little kids, and dear departed Lucy and Turtle have been no exception). It would hard NOT to like Avamarie, a really sweet niece who calls me "Audy Bummy," her pronunciation of Auntie Pammy. Awww! Here we are at the Miller family Christmas, held on the first day after Christmas that cousins Pam and Chris both finally had off of work.

Noah's other grandparents

2012-01-03T02:44:00.002-06:00

We were very happy to receive this nice photo of Noah's paternal grandparents, Barbara and Robert Johnson, at Christmas. They look a lot like Noah, and are very good to him. Barb and Bob split their time between McGregor, Minn., and Aiken, S.C.

More sweet Sprick pix

2012-01-03T02:39:00.004-06:00

Three recent photos we really like from Uncle Joe and Aunt Mavis' branch of the family:

The legendary ones themselves, Joe and Mavis!

Mavis and Joe with daughter Cindy, grandson Monty Leiser and Monty's girlfriend, Elizabeth Wyre.

Granddaughter Katie, who resembles both her Sprick grandparents, we think.

Colorado granddaughter Tanya Cook, her husband, Levi, and their kids, Maria, Sonya and Perrin.

Hair today, gone tomorrow

2012-01-03T02:33:00.001-06:00

This past week, little cousin Elizabeth Miller donated 7 inches of her beautiful long hair to Locks of Love, which makes wigs for cancer patients. We think she's equally lovely in before and after photos:

Meeting the nice scissors lady before the big cut. Best friend Sophie stood by to provide moral support.

Seven inches gone! And she still has long hair! No worries, E, it'll grow back soon. Thanks for your kind-hearted contribution!

Thanksgiving in Centerville, America

2011-12-02T12:25:00.000-06:00

Your scrapblog editor and son Noah were lucky enough to be invited to ChrisMiller!ChrisMiller!'s house for Thanksgiving. Some snapshots from that lively event:

After the scrapblog editor told stories about her recent Miller-family-roots-seeking trip to North Carolina, including one about how our grandmother's first husband died in the influenza pandemic of 1917-18 and she went on to take a second husband, a Miller, we went around the table telling what we were grateful for. Hannah Miller, 18, paused thoughtfully and said, "I'm grateful for the 1918 influenza epidemic, because without it, we wouldn't be here."

Moriah likes turkey!

Other guests include Lavone, Dan, Marty and Nick Broberg. Marty and CMill got all tough in the kitchen. By the way, congrats to Marty, who will enter the U.S. Marines in April 2012!

No Miller family gathering is complete without people posing for photos for that well-known photographer Mary Miller. She managed to get the young people -- Nick Broberg, Zachary Miller, Noah Miller Johnson, Moriah Miller and Marty Broberg -- together for this shot. Most of them posed nicely. (Hannah was missing because she had to take a nap before her late-night Black Friday shift at Hollister.)

Then they got goofy -- at least those scamps Moriah and Marty did.

Then things really deteriorated! Luckily, no one was hurt and no property was damaged.

Foster dog Ty enjoyed the attention and the turkey scraps.

The festivities were exhausting, especially for little Avamarie Miller, 3. She wore her wedding dress -- or at least it looked like a wedding dress -- for the occasion. Happy belated Thanksgiving, everyone!

A very cool young grandmother

2011-12-02T12:05:00.000-06:00

Love these photos from cousin Cindi's recent visit to her Cook grandkids in Denver:

Cindi with Sonia, Maria and Perrin.

Cindi monkeys around at the zoo. What a cool grandma! :)

Sonya is a star. Hey, we knew that.

Your scrapblog editor reaches the speed limit

2011-12-02T11:57:00.001-06:00

I'm a little late in posting these, since my 55th birthday was on Nov. 2, the Day of the Dead. Noah and the nieces made it especially happy. Gotta celebrate every one, cousins, 'cause, you never know...

In this photo of a very large and delicious cake, you may notice some Millers. That's me with radiant Hannah Miller, 18.

Ohhhh, wouldn't she like to get ahold of my delicious cake! That's niece Elizabeth Miller, 8.

The Sprick chicks

2011-12-02T11:53:00.001-06:00

We love this photo of our cousins the Sprick chicks, K., A and C. Beautiful and brilliant young people indeed!

More photos from Sandy's visit to Minnesota

2011-10-20T13:56:00.001-05:00

Thanks to cousin Sandy Kirkwood Turner for these nice photos from her trip to Minnesota:

Pretty clouds over Frontenac State Park.

Looking toward Lake City from Frontenac State Park.

Sisters Jane and Sandy.

Your scrapblog editor in the park.

My lovely land in Old Frontenac.

Sandy relaxin' in Minnesota.

Ted and Katie, Sandy's nephew and niece and our dear cousins.

Lovely Moriah

2011-10-20T13:45:00.002-05:00

Love these recent photos of niece Moriah Miller, 20. We think they were taken at Minnehaha Falls in Minneapolis. Re the boot: Hope that leg heals soon, Mo!

Happy 91st Birthday to dear Anna!

2011-10-20T13:43:00.001-05:00

We're a few days late in posting this one. Aunt Anna Sophia Sprick Smith turned 91 on Oct. 16. Anna, of course, lives at the Lake City Nursing Home now. We hope her head is full of sweet memories from long ago.

Anna and little sis Kate in July 1941.

A family stroll

2011-10-11T22:01:00.002-05:00

Your scrapblog editor toodled down to Lake City and Old Frontenac today to visit cousin Sandy Kirkwood Turner, up from Nacogdoches, Texas, as well as Joe-and-Mavis and Kate-and-John, and of course little Anna, almost 91, in the nursing home. A few photos from our visit, which featured a short stroll in Frontenac State Park:

Siblings Kate and Elmer stroll amid the leaves. It was a beautiful day indeed.

Joe tried to shake down some apples from the upper reaches of a tree. Deer or tourists had cleared off the low branches.

The view over the edge from the park's pinnacle. Have seen it a million times, but it's always a rush.

Mavis, Joe, Kate and Sandy in the sunshine.

Then we went down to the Old Frontenac cemetery. The inscription on this plaque, by the Garrard graves, was written by Mom.

Israel Garrard's grave.

Yikes, so many kids died little in those days. Glad we have a little less of that now, at least in good ol' America.

Sandy and Kate on the front steps of Kate and John's place on North Prairie Street in Lake City (Grandma Sprick's former place). Kate's flowers are beautiful, as always.

A visit with cousin Sarah

2011-10-05T01:18:00.008-05:00

Your scrapbook editor trekked to not-very-far-away Richfield last week to visit cousin Sarah Broberg in her group home, where she is well-loved by her friendly housemates and well-cared-for by some kind and capable folks. As most of you know, Sarah is in the early stages of Alzheimer's, so your scrapbook editor wanted to see how she was doing and if she still remembered very important family lore, such as, for instance, who her favorite cousin might be.

She did! She did remember the most important family item of that evening -- your scrapbook editor! She sang out, "PAM!" when I entered the living room where she and her housemates were watching a reality show, and never has my name sounded so sweet! We popped open the 12-pack of Diet Coke I'd brought and partied down with her housemates and evening caretaker, Moses, a fine fellow. Many burps were exchanged. Then I showed her some family photos. She remembered most of you, especially, it probably goes without saying, ChrisMiller!ChrisMiller!, whose photo elicited the most delighted table-pounding. There were poignant moments too, as when Sarah's eyes welled with tears when I showed her photos of her late parents, Marion and Wally Broberg. She showed them to her housemates, saying over and over again, "My mom and dad. They passed away. That's my mom and dad. They died. They passed away." Her housemates rushed to comfort her, and in a lame attempt to do so myself, I told Sarah she has a little of them inside her, which caused her to stick her finger in her ear, perhaps searching for them. Why not? The ear is close to the brain, that store of memory, and the heart.

As this photo fails to show, Sarah smiled a lot upon opening the birthday gift that your scrapblog editor went all-out on -- two precious five-dollar bills! Five whole dollars! Bills! American money! Two of them! I asked Sarah what she was going to spend them on, and she said, very politely, "None of your bizness." "How about gifts for your cousins?" I suggested, which prompted the look above. Even ChrisMiller!ChrisMiller! is not going to get one red cent of those precious greenbacks. You'd better believe it, buddy.

At home with Joe and Mavis

2011-10-05T01:06:00.004-05:00

Your scrapbook editor doesn't get to Lake City to pester her relatives as much as I did last year, when I owned Mom's former place there. Uncle Joe has been good enough to send some photos from their wonderful new place in fashionable north Lake City, near Sugarloaf and, we are told, woods that are home to some old Indian mounds. Some of Joe's photos:

Joe and Mavis outside their beautiful new home. We are happy to report that it sports some priceless, precious blue plates -- hope they are heavily insured!

Mavis is catching all the bluegills that your scrapblog editor would be catching if I were there more often.

It's apple season in lovely Lake City! Mavis is making pies, or crisp, or something awesome. We think there should be a kind of apple called The Sprick -- large, hardy, sweet and red-cheeked.

What a lovely photo of Mavis and cousin Cindy, except for one glaring thing! What in the world kind of shirt is that Mavis is wearing? Why is it not purple? It's not Lake City, WISCONSIN, is it, now??!!

Happy 83rd Birthday to Uncle Deadeye!

2011-10-01T15:05:00.003-05:00

Happy Birthday, Uncle John Kirkwood! Here he is a few years back with his equally handsome sons, Joe and Tuck.

Beauty in the BWCA

2011-09-18T18:58:00.002-05:00

Thanks to cousin Dan Broberg for these very nice photos from his and Marty's August trip with a Boy Scout troop to the BWCA. What a beautiful place!

Happy 84th Birthday to an awesome uncle!

2011-08-22T20:37:00.005-05:00

Happy 84th Birthday to our dear Uncle Joe! (Elmer William Sprick, ace dad, granddad, great-granddad, uncle, brother and fisherman.)

Here he is with his bride, the ever-radiant Mavis.....

... and here are the fish he caught on his birthday! :)

A very special, very beloved old pet winds down

2011-08-22T20:31:00.004-05:00

"My latest sun is sinking fast," Noah eloquently wrote in a recent Facebook posting, borrowing a line from the great old song "Angel Band." He was referring to Lucy, our beloved, sweet, wise, creaky old cat, who is entering that twilight stage where the vet can do no more (pancreatic cancer, they think; the same thing that we Millers' saintly old dog Alfie died of back in the 1980s). We are holding her a lot, feeding her by hand and just keeping her as comfy as possible. She retains the same sweet, calm, friendly personality she's had for her full almost-16 years, still likes to lie outside in the yard under the sun or moon or under her beloved Black Hills spruce trees. Lately I've been painting my house and she's sprawled nearby, just happy to be in our company. Moriah, who was helping me paint, took this photo of Lucy and me (yes, I'm covered in paint, and so was Moriah) last week. (Postscript: Lucy died a few days after this photo was taken in our cat hospice living room, amid many tears. Noah buried her deep in our back yard underneath some peonies transplanted from Old Frontenac, and we set up a memorial to her there and in the house. Best cat ever, hands down; I'm not kidding when I say this cat helped raise Noah. After Lucy died, Noah's friend Johnny, who lived with us a short while in high school and bonded with Lucy bigtime, got a kitten and named her LucyCat II. She was that awesome, our Lucy!)

Hiking in a closed state park

2011-07-16T00:38:00.004-05:00

Your scrapblog editor and old pal Laurie Hertzel set off on a long-planned day of hiking at Frontenac State Park this past Tuesday. Only problem is, the park, like all Minnesota state parks, was closed because of the #$%^! state government shutdown. This did not stop us from invading the park to hike, tho we were very polite and trucked out our garbage. We pretty much had the park to ourselves, and it was glorious. Some snapshots from our day:

Closed! The state parks are closed! In the most beautiful month of the year. Note to self: Must refrain from political rants on the blog...

Perhaps the coolest thing we saw was a doe nursing twin fawns. Laurie took this photo through a veil of brush. The fawns were so extremely tiny, and the doe so calm and watchful.

Another doe, in another spot. The wildlife actually may be ENJOYING the shutdown.

Black-eyed Susans, some of the wonderful prairie wildflowers blooming this month.

The black raspberries were getting ripe. Laurie took some photos of them, and then I ate them.

Glorious sky, glorious landscape, glorious day.

Naturally, we had a picnic or two.

Your scrapblog editor never lets a little thing like rain get in the way of her hikes or picnics. Have poncho, will dine.

Laurie on the dock at the Old Frontenac beach. As I focused the photo, I casually asked her to back up a little, but she's too smart for me, Hertzel is.

We also took a little drive across the river to Nelson, Wis., where Laurie got ice cream ...

... and I picked up some Wisconsin wine.

Chats and Michael soon won't be in Kansas anymore

2011-06-30T12:38:00.002-05:00

Michael and Cathy were recently feted by Cathy's congregation at First Presbyterian Church in Wichita, Kan., which she's leaving after several years' service to head a congregation in Rio Verde, Ariz. Judging by the photos from that party, the Wichita folks have a great sense of humor.

Michael, Cathy and the characters they won't be in Kansas with anymore.

Chats and Michael get pilloried. Why? Why not?

Chatsies conquers the wicked witch...

...but wait! Someone photoshopped this one! What are they saying? Watch out, Arizona! The Rev. Dr. Esquire Chatsies is headed your way!

Congrats to T-Bro upon his high school graduation!

2011-06-30T00:29:00.006-05:00

Technical difficulties and an extended vacation kept your favorite scrapblog editor from posting these photos of cousin Tyler Broberg's May 22 Eagan High School graduation party on deadline, and a #$%! tornado kept her from attending the gala festivities in person. Thanks to cousin Sam, Tyler's proud dad, for sending these, and congratulations, Tyler, on your next set of adventures at Winona State University and beyond!

Tyler with second cousin Katie Hagberg. How fast the little ones grow up into handsome young gents and lovely young ladies!

Tyler with his proud great-aunt, Lavone Broberg.

Proud mom Bridget was the gracious hostess. Here she visited with cousin Janie "Doot Doo" Kirkwood Hagberg.

In this photo of large, delicious food, you may also notice some of Tyler's second cousins. Katie Hagberg and Moriah Miller lent beauty and sass to the event.

Mary, Nick, Moriah, Elizabeth, Tyler and Marty.

Cousin CMill and small family princesses Elizabeth and Avamarie hung out in the street with the overflow crowd. Luckily for this crew, the day's tornadoes touched down north of the party.

Pam and Heather's excellent adventure

2011-05-26T12:16:00.015-05:00

Every May for the past few years, your scrapblog editor and her trusty hiking pal Heather M. have bushwhacked through the woods admiring the forest-floor scenery, wiping out in the mud and scaring the deer without ever finding even one morel mushroom. That all changed yesterday when we found 72 of the preciousssss fungi in three top-secret locations. Some snapshots:

Oh yeah! We score!

Our first site yielded a pillowful.

One of scores of morels Heather found.
The little buggers aren't easy to see; Heather, who has a careful photographer's eye, was better at spotting them than I was.

More and more morels!

The spring woods are full of many lovely things beyond morels. Heather took this photo of a fern.

We also stopped to admire the lilacs on my Old Frontenac property, which may or may not be near the morel lode.

Someday I'll live on this land and be able to enjoy the lilacs every May day instead of having to drive so far to visit them.

The sweet scent of spring.

We also stopped at the Old Frontenac beach. The water was quite high, but not as high as it's been this spring, as you can tell from the water lines on the big cottonwoods.

Heather's fine photographer's eye caught a lot of beauty everywhere, including on the beach. In addition to our morels, we brought home a deer skull, a deer pelvic bone, a fox jawbone, and a lot of pretty driftwood and rocks we found on our various ramblings. As we said to each other, it's just like one of those fun adventures you have when you're a kid!

A visit from cousin Chatsies

2011-05-18T22:55:00.015-05:00

Cousin the Rev. Dr. Mary Catherine "Chats" Miller Northrup, aka sister of Pam and Chris, was in Minneapolis for a conference this week and was able to sneak away for a couple visits with her siblings and their kids. A few snapshots from our Tuesday night get-together: Big sis, little sis.

Chats read "Go Dog Go" and "Green Eggs and Ham" to nieces Elizabeth, 7, and Avamarie, 2, or maybe it was the other way around.

Naturally, several Millers played a hot game of Memory, this one on a beautiful sunny evening in my Robbinsdale yard. Needless to say, Elizabeth won, big-time.

Noah basked in the lovely springtime sunshine and his happiness at having graduated this week from the University of Minnesota. The world is his oyster!

"Why, yes," Avamarie opined to her dad, Chris Miller, at our picnic, "I would like to steal your watermelon. It even matches my outfit!"

Avamarie got a push from dad Chris at our Robbinsdale playground, a favorite walk destination. Noah grew up playing here.

Lovely and talented Moriah, home for the summer from Mankato State, has an ailing tendon that is healing in one of those fashionable leg boots. It didn't stop her from doing graceful, athletic things.

Cousins Noah and Moriah got ready ...

... got set, and ...

... Mo went flying! ...

... and so did Noah, whoa! All in all, it was a lovely evening.

A momentous day for Noah and his parents

2011-05-17T00:26:00.009-05:00

On Sunday (May 15, 2011), Noah graduated from the University of Minnesota with a major in political science and a minor in philosophy. His dad and I are very proud of him, and it was a happy day for all of us. Noah outside Mariucci Arena after the ceremony with me and his dad, Steve Johnson.

Noah with his parents in Robbinsdale; we took him out to dinner at an Italian restaurant and toasted this wonderful day.

Noah with his dad and his stepmom, Ann Johnson.

*****

I found the graduation ceremony very emotional and meaningful. Despite the fact that there were more than 2,000 graduates from the College of Liberal Arts and the whole thing could have been very unwieldy, it was well organized, with beautiful live music and excellent, thoughtful speeches. The keynote speaker was poet Michael Dennis Browne, who read poems by himself, N. Scott Momaday and this one by Marge Piercy. which is one of my favorites -- "To Be of Use":

TO BE OF USE

The people I love the best

jump into work head first

without dallying in the shallows

and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.

They seem to become natives of that element,

the black sleek heads of seals

bouncing like half submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,

who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,

who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,

who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge

in the task, who go into the fields to harvest

and work in a row and pass the bags along,

who stand in the line and haul in their places,

who are not parlor generals and field deserters

but move in a common rhythm

when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.

Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.

But the thing worth doing well done

has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.

Greek amphoras for wine or oil,

Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums

but you know they were made to be used.

The pitcher cries for water to carry

and a person for work that is real.

-- Marge Piercy

Up north for a couple of days

2011-05-16T22:55:00.010-05:00

Occasionally your scrapblog editor gets tired of her noisy job, what with its incessant police scanner and arguing reporters, and likes to get outta town on her days off. Usually, that's to lovely Lake City, Minn., our ancestral hamlet. But this past week, the yen to go north, rather than south, struck, and I spent my midweek days off at Gooseberry Cabins, one of two mom-and-pop cabin resorts on the North Shore (the other being Castle Haven) where three generations of cousins have spent time through the years. Enjoyed two days of hiking in still wintry woods (snow still lay in the ravines, and very few wildflowers were out yet, but the lack of leaves allowed for great visibility in the woods; saw lots of birds and deer). Read three books, cooked some nice experimental meals, drank a little merlot and generally got the blood pressure down for the plunge back into the urban world of work and cacophony. A few snapshots: Squinting out at the great lake. I kept thinking about how I lived in Duluth for eight years, and though I appreciated Lake Superior then, I'm not sure I appreciated it enough. Now, seen so infrequently, it seems extra magnificent, rare, exotic, magical. I recently had the privilege to review a novel by a Duluthian who has the same feeling about the lake, and the talent to translate it into exceptional fiction. Highly recommended -- Danielle Sosin's "Long Shining Waters." Gooseberry Falls was thunderous, thick with water from recent rains and snowmelt. Better yet, there was almost nobody there. I highly recommend visiting the North Shore before Memorial Day. The great lake as seen from the front of my little Gooseberry Cabin. (Gooseberry Cabins is northeast of Castle Danger, right on the lake, run by Karen and Tim Erickson, as it has been for decades.)

Walked a couple times a day down the gravel road to Hwy. 61, then back into Castle Haven, the neighboring resort where we more often stayed as kids. Castle Haven is still a cool place, but it's been upgraded and is more expensive and fancier now than Gooseberry Cabins, which have kept their 1950s feel -- no TVs, phones, just simple cabins right on the rocks. Stilll, it was fun to walk around Castle Haven, see the old fishhouse where the long-deceased Lind siblings, Edgar, Mark and Florence, once worked, and remember happy family times there.

I stayed in one unit of the Gooseberry Cabins "tricabin." No one else was there on my weekday days off, so it was utterly quiet and deserted. Perfect for a city gal's getaway.

The woods next to my cabin.

Headed for sun country

2011-05-09T23:10:00.004-05:00

Congrats to cousin Chats, my sis, the Rev. Dr. Mary Catherine Miller Northrup, esq., and hubby Michael Northrup! Cathy has landed a new pastorship near Scottsdale, Ariz., a place she and Michael have considered a great destination for a long time. Come Aug. 1, Cathy will be senior pastor of Rio Verde Community Church, soon to be renamed Community Church of the Verdes. Chats reports that it's an interdenominational church that serves three over-55 communities, Rio Verde, Tonto Verde and Vista Verde, which include a lot of expat Minnesotans; the building also serves a Roman Catholic congregation. Cathy will remain a Presbyterian minister. Cathy and Michael plan to live in Rio Verde. Cathy wrote this to her congregation at First Presbyterian in Wichita, Kan., which she has served for more than five years: "Know that I will keep First Presbyterian in my prayers, and I will always hold it, and you, in my heart."

Boys to young men

2011-05-09T22:43:00.010-05:00

The Broberg boys are growing up fast -- tall, handsome, talented. A couple of snapshots forwarded by proud dad Dan:

Nick with his lovely prom date.

Marty, playing for Hopkins, outruns the competition in a rugby game against Burnsville. Need I say they won? Hopkins won, 17-3. This fine action photo is from the Hopkins community newspaper. A nice Edina Patch interview with Marty and his team can be found here.

2011-05-05T00:10:00.007-05:00

Nancy Sprick Kohrs, a regular blog reader, kindly emailed us this 1973 photo of Dad early in his time with the Goodhue County (Minn.) Auditor's Office, before he himself was elected county auditor. Front row: Ardis Kohrs (Nancy's mother-in-law), Millie Sanvidge, Hazel Johnson and Marion Mincieli; one woman's name is missing here; will check with Nancy on that. Back row: Bob Hendel, Dad (William Alton Miller, 4/13/25-3/1/96), Russ Tanner (then auditor) and Larry Peterson. To make the photo larger and easier to view, just click on it.

Home improvement

2011-04-27T19:18:00.043-05:00

The sale of Mom's/my little place in Lake City made possible some repairs at my Robbinsdale home that had been needed for some time. What a great feeling to get things fixed! Here are some photos (also posted in the previously mentioned spirit of having some photos of Noah's childhood home on record):
THE LIVING ROOM: At the front door: new tile and quarterrounds to replace the old, chipped asbestos-bottomed linoleum. No change to the green-heavy scheme!
Lucy the cat, age 15, made friends with all the workmen, and wasn't a bit scared of the noise and dust. She's a very social, friendly cat. Turtle, age 14, hid under the furnace the whole time.

Work on the roof, in the attic crawlspace and on the ceiling and wall itself took care of winter water leakage around the wood-fireplace chimney (a sort of internal ice dam).
THE DINING ROOM: The wooden floors have a lot of scratches from skateboards, baseball cleats and general wear, but still look pretty good, especially in sunlight and low light.

That's Mom and Dad's old dining room table, once in the Old Frontenac kitchen, then in the Lake City kitchen, now in my Robbinsdale dining room. Can't bring myself to get rid of the 1950s-era vertical candystripe wallpaper; as Mom used to say, "Well, at least it helps you keep your pictures straight on the wall."
The "armoire" is a combination of a piece of furniture Aunt Annette gave me and a shelf I bought from my late neighbor, Bernice Peterson, that I stacked on top of it. Note the wooden high chair, once owned by Uncle Harter Kulseth's family. We've used it a lot for Elizabeth and Avamarie.
In the kitchen, the workers installed quarterrounds and made other small repairs.

The precious, priceless blue plates go well with a pink ceiling, don't you think?

THE PINK BEDROOM: One of Mom's old armchairs makes a comfy spot in my bedroom.

I'm not much on new furniture -- much of my stuff is just what I had in my Old Frontenac bedroom as a kid.
THE BLUE BEDROOM: The blue recliner Noah and I bought at a garage sale in Red Wing, at Anna's former apartment building, doesn't quite match the blue of the walls, but it sure is comfy.

A portrait of Cosmo Kramer, from "Seinfeld," hangs in Noah's room.

THE HALLWAY: Entrances to Noah's old room and the yellow "media room."

THE YELLOW "MEDIA ROOM": No beige in your scrapblog editor's house! I get enough of that at work.

Lots of stuff hanging on the wall in every room; I've followed in Aunt Annette Kulseth's footsteps that way.

No fancy HDTVs here, just this fuzzy old lunker. Don't have cable now that Noah has moved out; not much time to watch TV when you work nights.

THE BATHROOM: Yes, the bathroom! It was a wreck, and still isn't fancy, but is much improved, with a new vanity, leaky plumbing repaired, a ceiling fan installed (what a lot of work that was -- work on the roof, in the crawlspace, in the walls, and finally in the bathroom itself) and a newly surfaced tub.

Doesn't look like much, but having a spotless, relined tub is sure nice!

THE BASEMENT: The biggest rehab project was in the basement, where the workers repaired the ceiling and sealed and padded the 1940s-era asbestos-bottomed linoleum tile and resurfaced it with pretty nice vinyl flooring that goes well with the knotty-pine walls. Perhaps the most significant change is invisible -- repairs outside to seal a small leak in the basement's northwest corner. The basement has always been a good, usable space, but now it's even moreso.

Moved the double bed from Lake City here, and that's my old dining room table, with a few leaves taken out, now a basement game table.

Gotta have books. Books in every room, even in the basement.

The basement fireplace is workable, but seldom used. It's right under the one in the living room.

THE BASEMENT BEDROOM: There's a cozy, warm little bedroom in the basement that I use when I have guests. I put the awesome shell artwork that Aunt Mavis gave me in there! You can also see the old family trunk that our Augustin ancestors brought from Germany, full of all their possessions. It holds family scrapbooks now.

The old chest, a comfy bed and chair, and a few old family things, like the painting by Aunt Marilyn Miller, are in this room...

...along with more books. This room houses my poetry books, our childhood encyclopedias and old National Geographics -- classic basement fare! Lucy the cat likes this room a lot.

More of the Millers

2011-04-27T19:09:00.006-05:00

Your scrapblog editor drove up to Chris And Them's place between Easter weekend work shifts for a short visit. Some snapshots: Avamarie gets some love from her senior sisters, Hannah and Moriah.

Three of my lovely nieces. Elizabeth was AWOL because she was playing a computer game, huh.

Mary and Pam are getting a little older, don't you know.

Chris slugged a beer as Avamarie sent an email to Star Tribune top managers on his BlackBerry.

Chris and Mary's kitchen center island is always a fav gathering spot.

Prom time

2011-04-18T13:39:00.005-05:00

How these little cousins grew up so fast is beyond your scrapblog editor: Hannah Miller, daughter of Chris and Mary, with her prom date.

Katie Hagberg, daughter of Jane and Ted, with her prom date.

Look who's 3!

2011-04-18T13:38:00.002-05:00

That's AvaMarie Miller, sweet as can be, at 3.

Cozy in Robbinsdale

2011-03-23T22:48:00.009-05:00

I always find myself squinting at old photos in an effort to see the trappings of long-ago life in their blurry backgrounds. So I decided I'd take a few photos of my house in Robbinsdale, Minn., where Noah grew up, so he can squint at them decades from now and remember his misty childhood. The old cuckoo clock, purchased in West Germany in the early 1960s, is a favorite of all the Miller kids. (That's Turtle, one of our geriatric cats, reclining on the couch.) The living room is bright green, modeled after "the great green room" in the classic children's book "Goodnight, Moon." It's nice to have bright colors to cozy up to during Minnesota's long, cold, sometimes drab winters. Moriah and Hannah helped me pick out the bright red chairs a few years ago.

The living room from another angle. That's Alverna's old china cabinet in the corner, recently moved from the now-sold Lake City place. Though it's March 24, Alverna's Christmas cactus is blooming away. And the bead curtain? Love bead curtains, have several in my house.

A break from the long winter

2011-03-15T23:40:00.014-05:00

Chris and Mary, winter-weary like all of the Minnesota cousins, impulsively jumped into one of their festive dented vans and headed south to Alabama (Orange Beach, a resort in the off-season) for Elizabeth's spring break week, taking the little girls and leaving the older kids behind to work and par-tay. A few snapshots: The temperature along the Alabama coast is not quite high enough for swimming, CMill says, but the 70s feel pretty nice. That feet-in-the-sand thing looks pretty good to us!

What is this?, AvaMarie seemed to opine. Warm snow??!!

Elizabeth surveys the possibilities...

...and jumps right in.

The little girls on the beach ...

... and playing a hot game of putt-putt.

An online memorial to Mom and other crash victims

2011-03-09T16:28:00.016-06:00

I'm reprinting this piece from the Strib because it's now linked to from a memorial to Mom on the Minnesota Department of Public Safety's new and very moving crash victims memorial website.

This essay was published in the Minneapolis Star Tribune on July 29, 2006.

A stranger's kindness eases a loss:

A beloved mother died in a tragic crash, but not without a hand to hold.

By PAMELA MILLER
pmiller@startribune.com

On the afternoon of April 24, 2006, Michelle Meyer was driving north on Hwy. 61 from her home in Wabasha, Minn., to Lake City when she saw something awful.

Near Reads Landing, a blue van in front of her shot off the right side of the road, slammed into the guardrail, veered back across the highway, hit the sandstone embankment and rolled over.

Meyer, 29 and nine months pregnant, pulled over and grabbed her cell phone. A registered nurse for the Mayo Clinic and a volunteer emergency medical technician (EMT) for the city of Wabasha, she knew that the response would be faster if she called the Wabasha County Sheriff's Department rather than 911.

Send an ambulance, she said, and have Mayo One send a 'copter.

As she spoke, she ran to the van. A slightly built woman with silver hair was trapped in the crushed vehicle, bleeding heavily at the chest and head.

"Being so pregnant, I couldn't crawl in to get her out, but a couple guys who'd stopped helped," Meyer said. "We laid her down and tried to comfort her. She told us her name, and tried to say other stuff, but she couldn't speak very clearly. We stayed with her, talked to her, held her hand."

Minnesota State Patrol officer Malachy McCarthy arrived, then an ambulance, then fire trucks. Another EMT driving by on his day off stopped.

Despite their efforts, the woman was dead by the time the helicopter landed. Meyer stayed until the scene was clear.

Identification was found among the woman's bloodied belongings. It bore the name she had gasped out to Meyer: Alverna Miller.

My mom.

*****

The varieties of bad news are infinite, but some are more devastating than others, news of a child's death being the undisputed worst.

Still, the shock of a call saying that one's lively, beloved 81-year-old mother has been killed in a car crash is like being hit from behind with a big stick: You stagger, your mindlocks up, the pain spreads slowly.

Shortly after the crash, McCarthy and my mother's pastor knocked on my uncle's door in Lake City. Choked with sorrow, my uncle called me at my Twin Cities home.

As I sat at the dining room table, speechless, my 16-year-old son, Noah, told me about an e-mail he'd just read from his grandmother. The day before, she'd taken him to Kellogg, Minn., to play miniature golf, had removed her watch and forgotten it there. The next day,she had driven to Kellogg to retrieve it, and was heading home to Lake City when the crash occurred.

I called my brother, Chris Miller, a Star Tribune sports editor, and my sister, Cathy Miller Northrup, a Presbyterian minister in Kansas. Ten years earlier, I had called them with the news of our beloved dad's death from metastatic melanoma (William Alton Miller, 4/13/25-3/1/06). We'd loved him, too. But this news was harder to convey.

Each of us in the chain had the same reaction. We were speechless. Then we said, What? She what? Tell me again. Are you sure? Could there be some mistake?

In the days that followed, Mom was mourned, honored and buried. It all went as well as could be expected. Her children went back to work -- my sister to her ministry, my brother to his intense sports journalism job, I to my job as the Star Tribune's Faith & Values beat reporter.

But I wanted to know more about the accident. I called Officer McCarthy, who gave me a few details and kindly assured me that Mom hadn't suffered.

I called the Wabasha County medical examiner, who said initial autopsy results showed no sign of stroke or heart attack, no clue as to why it happened. The cause of death: massive chest trauma.

The accident is a mystery, and will remain so, I realized.

And then I called Michelle Meyer.

*****

On the night after the accident, Meyer couldn't sleep. As an EMT, she's seen a lot of gore, but something about this accident stayed with her, perhaps because she'd responded as a passerby, not as an EMT.

At work the next day, she went into labor. That night, Henry, 7 pounds 6 ounces, was born via Caesarean section, just as her first child, Madeline, had been five years before.

"All through this, I thought so much about how when one person dies, another is born," Meyer said.

When I called her the first time and she told me about giving birth the day after Mom died, it made me feel better.

I told my brother, my sister, my uncle. They all smiled when they heard it. "That's so cool," they said.

The first time I talked to Meyer, she stressed that Mom hadn't suffered.

The second time, she told me that Mom had indeed lived awhile, had said her name, had been aware of the comforting hands nearby. It was hard, but good, to hear that.

*****
The day of the crash, there were plenty of cars along that stretch of Hwy. 61, one of the most beautiful roads in America and one Mom loved to drive, looking for bald eagles. (I've since buried that darn watch, still ticking, in a small memorial at the spot where Mom died.)

Why did Meyer, so pregnant, stop when others were pulling over, too?

"There was never any question," she said. "Here was a terrible accident. Someone needed help. I wanted to be there."

And not just as an EMT, it became clear as I talked to her. She wanted to be there as a fellow human being doing the right thing, as someone who realized that a mortally injured person would need a hand to hold.

It means so much to my family, what this woman did. We are so grateful that Mom's car did not hit hers. We're so glad she stopped, and that Mom's last interaction was with a person with kind eyes and a gentle voice, a woman great with life.

We had an exceptional mom. Henry and Madeline Meyer, so do you.

Pamela Miller - 612-673-4290

Alverna Miller (7/23/24-4/24/06) teaching grandson Noah Miller Johnson, then 5, how to "fly" during a trip to Glacier National Park in the early 1990s. Another photo above is also of Mom and Noah.

Saying goodbye to 606 Willers Court

2011-03-04T12:15:00.009-06:00

For five years, since Mom passed away, the Miller kids (of two generations) have used her little twinhome at 606 Willers Court in Lake City, Minn., as a retreat and Coveted Burnt Wienie party pad. In 2008, I bought out Chris and Chats' portion of the place, and have loved having it, and kept it a while in hopes that eventually Joe and Mavis would be able to sell their larger place and move into my smaller place. Didn't quite work out that way, thanks to the worst housing recession in memory, which has hit little Lake City especially hard, making it hard to sell a place unless you practically give it away. When the opportunity arrived to sell the twinhome slightly above tax value and gain a little financial security, I took it, selling it to a couple from Hastings. The closing is March 15. Giving it up is bittersweet, but exciting because it's a step toward my dream of building a small place someday in Old Frontenac. Took some photos yesterday, moving day: I used these highly professional movers to relocate the last furniture from Lake City to my place in Robbinsdale. If they look familiar, it's because they're COUSINS (and a friend who's almost family). Thanks to you movin', groovin' kids -- Jamie Rae Blackburn, Zachary Miller and Noah Johnson. (I keep calling them kids, but they're 21, 21 and 22 now -- all grown up with dreams of their own.) The great room before we locked up. Hope the new owners love it as much as we did.

The kitchen where we had all those large, delicious Burnt Wienie desserts.

After loading the truck, we met Elmer and Mavis for a large, delicious, calorie-heavy supper at Bronk's in downtown Lake City. Noah and Zachary sat under posters about Lake City Tiger championships in the 1970s.

What would Alverna think of us moving her last little home out of the family? Don't know for sure, but it might be worth noting that her Christmas cactus, which tends to bloom at odd non-Christmas times, took off this week, shooting out pink blossoms in my Robbinsdale living room. I'll take that as a sign that she approves of the Old Frontenac dream, which is next up.

A bittersweet little poem that friends Holly and Todd Willmarth sent me when I told them I'd sold Mom's last house:

Into my heart an air that kills

From yon far country blows:

What are those blue remembered hills,

What spires, what farms are those? That is the land of lost content,

I see it shining plain,

The happy highways where I went

And cannot come again.

-- A.E. Houseman

Miller girls

2011-03-02T01:00:00.006-06:00

Your scrapblog editor toodled up to Centerville tonight to see Chris, Mary and her three youngest nieces. A lively time was had by all. Auntie Pam catches up with the little Miller girls.

AvaMarie, 2, chatted up a storm, possibly in several languages.

Mary with her two youngest, Elizabeth, 7, and AvaMarie, 2.

Elizabeth reads like a 10-year-old. After soundly whupping me in a hot game of Memory, she stormed through an old favorite about Nurse Nancy, a precocious little gal who saves goofy little boys with colorful BAND-AIDS. It was a fav of the Miller gals in the previous generation, too.

Hard to believe...

2011-03-02T00:57:00.006-06:00

Has it really been 15 years since dear ol' Dad (William Alton "Brother" Miller, 4/13/25-3/1/96) passed away? Hard to believe, as he liked to say of many things. He certainly lives on in his kids' memories. A couple fav photos: With Pam, Chris and Cathy in Monterey, Calif., in the early 1960s. Dad was in Army language school at the time, learning Czech for Cold War era service in Europe.

Perhaps an upside-down pipe was a distress signal for a North Carolina native living in snowy Minnesota! But he never seemed to mind life in his adopted state.

A very fine teacher

2011-03-02T00:54:00.003-06:00

Cousin Leah Sprick Davidson, center, was among longtime Catholic school teachers honored recently in Florida, where she lives and work. Congrats on influencing and inspiring generations of young folks, Leah!

The lovely Miller girls

2011-02-16T23:07:00.014-06:00

For several years now, I've referred to niece Hannah Miller as Hannah Manhattana, knowing she would go far on her brains and beauty. So, check this out, cousins! ... Does that model princessa look familiar? Yep, it's 17-year-old Hannah, your proud scrapblog editor's niece and daughter of Chris and Mary Miller, starring in a prom-products ad. Check out the full online ad here.

In 2007, your scrapblog editor took nieces Hannah and Moriah to Manhattan for a little vacation, and while there took to closely trotting along behind the lovely Miller nieces with a ready scowl and overlarge purse ready to whack any fella with an over-admiring glance, and there were many (speaking of which, that fella in the prom-products ad is awfully ardent; we might have to whack HIM with our overlarge purse). It was only a matter of time before one of them became a model! Speaking of their beauty...

... here's an added photo of niece Moriah, Hannah's sister, competing in this past weekend's Northern Sun Intercollegiate Conference pentathlon competition in St. Cloud, Minn. Not only can she fly, she's lovely and witty.

Watch out for that hole in the ice!

2011-02-14T11:57:00.003-06:00

Joe and Mavis took this impressive photo of Lake Pepin from the picnic area at Old Frontenac State Park. The little specks are fish houses and cars. You may also note a mysterious hole in the ice, made by a pickup that went through over the weekend. Luckily, its owners did not go down with it. No doubt the ice is getting even mushier this week, what with temperatures getting a little milder.

I believe she can fly

2011-02-14T11:54:00.003-06:00

Radiant Moriah Miller, competing for Minnesota State University Mankato, did real well in this past weekend's Northern Sun Intercollegiate Conference pentathlon competition in St. Cloud, Minn. For more info, go here. We're proud of you, flyin' Mo!

Katie's game

2011-02-14T02:01:00.003-06:00

Middle-aged cousin Chris Miller and youthful cousin Katie Hagberg, daughter of Ted and Jane, have something in common -- they're both awesome at Twitter, the social media tool that's hot in the United States and facilitating revolutions elsewhere, like Egypt. Cousin Sam Broberg is also very adept at Twitter. (Digression: Your scrapbook editor loves blogging and Facebook, but pretty much bombs at Twitter, despite being encouraged to use it for work.) Recently both CMill and Katie tweeted about a big basketball game Katie was part of at her East Ridge High School in Woodbury. Then they both posted photos on Facebook. A couple of them we swiped for the blog: Katie with her proud grandparents after the game.

Katie with two of her biggest (and smallest) fans, Elizabeth Miller, 7, and shy Avamarie Miller, 2.

Some sort of football game, somewhere

2011-02-14T01:57:00.004-06:00

Two football teams, the Slackers and the Peelers, we think they're called, played some sort of big-time game recently, we hear. One of them -- OK, it was the Green Bay Packers -- won! Among the fans of those Super Bowl champs was cousin Monty Leiser, of Eau Claire, Wis., and his lovely girlfriend, Elizabeth. Eat your heart out, Brett Favre!

Lucille and the very fine baked bluegills

2011-02-14T01:53:00.003-06:00

Your scrapblog editor is a vegetarian, with the recent exception of fish she or Uncle Joe catches. Have come up with a pretty good recipe for baked bluegills, the one Lake Pepin fish that doesn't taste, well, muddy-fishy. Look who else likes the recipe -- 15-year-old cat Lucy, who I like to give a crumb or two after dinner. Lucy, a very dignified feline, has good taste in all things.

Books we like to mark

2011-02-14T01:27:00.008-06:00

One thing your scrapblog editor likes even better than newspapers is (are?) books. As you've seen, I've already crowed several times about my old pal Laurie Hertzel's 2010 memoir "News to Me: Adventures of an Accidental Journalist." Here are two other recent books I've had the privilege to have a small hand in:

"Manhood From the Hood" is a self-published memoir by Bill Roddy, who operates a Twin Cities nonprofit that helps young people from poorer neighborhoods learn how to be entrepreneurs. I did some editing on Bill's book, which chronicles his hardscrabble childhood in Chicago and the values he learned from his grandfather that helped him forge his path in life.

I took this photo of Bill and his wife, Gail Roddy, at their recent book launch party in Eden Prairie. They are lovely and gracious friends.

Here's another recent book whose author I'm proud to know. Jamie Lorentzen, along with his wife, Jane, are dear friends who live in Old Frontenac, Minn. Jamie, in addition to being a delightful and humorous person (relatives may remember him as the eloquent eulogist at Mom's funeral), is a Kierkegaard scholar. Jamie thanks me in this book's acknowledgments, but I really didn't have anything to do with it other than to tell him over a beer at Bronk's in Lake City that it was an awesome idea and that he's an awesome dude.

Here's a Red Wing Republican Eagle photo of Jamie before his commencement address to the Class of '10 at Red Wing (Minn.) High School, where he teaches English and is extremely popular. That Jamie! He's brilliant and hilarious, an excellent combination.

Beware of brothers bearing BlackBerries

2011-02-14T01:14:00.002-06:00

Too bad we don't have audio for this one. Your scrapblog editor was over at brother Chris' desk in the Star Tribune newsroom sharing some family gossip when who shows up but Sid Hartman, The Great One. He said, and I quote, somewhat accurately: "Look at this! Here we have two Millers, both from the same mother! One of them is just ... TERRIBLE. And the other one is just ... WONDERFUL." Of course Chris whipped out his BlackBerry to record the moment. Despite being the wonderful one (obviously), your scrapblog editor thinks ol' Sid should be kinder to CMill, who bears with him for SidCast every week at www.startribune.com.

A blog we like

2011-02-13T17:30:00.004-06:00

We're happy to see that lovely, articulate cousin Tanya Cook, mother of Perrin, Sonya and shy Maria; wife of Levi; daughter of Cyndi Sprick O'Donohoe and granddaughter of Elmer and Mavis Sprick, has launched her own thoughtful blog. Tanya and her lovely family now live in Denver. You can find her blog at: http://heavymetalbeautymom.blogspot.com/ Write on, Tanya!

Congrats to a dear and creative friend!

2011-01-29T23:19:00.012-06:00

Congratulations to dear old pal Laurie Hertzel, who was nominated for a Minnesota Book Award today for "News to Me: Adventures of an Accidental Journalist." Had your scrapblog editor, who plays a tiny role in the book, known back then that Laurie would write a memoir someday, she would have done more zany, madcap things!

Laurie and Pam in Duluth, Minn., back in the day (the 1980s, that is -- the Duluth News Tribune heyday era of Laurie's book "News to Me: Adventures of an Accidental Journalist"). Laurie is now books editor at the Minneapolis Star Tribune. She and her husband, Doug Iverson, business editor of the St. Paul Pioneer Press, live near Como Park in St. Paul with their beloved dogs, Boscoe and Riley. Laurie also writes a wonderful blog.

The lone skater

2011-01-29T23:15:00.003-06:00

Brother Chris Miller used his busy BlackBerry, usually buzzing with breaking news from the Strib's Minnesota Vikings beat reporters, to take this sweet photo today of daughter Elizabeth skating near their Centerville, Minn., home. Elizabeth loves her life, and we love Elizabeth!

From dumpster diving to pearl diving

2011-01-29T23:11:00.005-06:00

Uncle Joe and Aunt Mavis sent these delightful photos from their tour of the old pearl button factory in Lake City, Minn., which has been remodeled into an antiques joint. Looks like it features some good exhibits and items for sale. Check it out, cousins!

Elmer and Mavis go dumpster diving: Why we're proud to be in the Sprick family

2011-01-26T11:39:00.017-06:00

We're privileged to present this news flash/wise essay from Uncle Elmer "Joe" Sprick about the ruckus he and Aunt Mavis, our very own quiet octogenarians-gone-activist, inadvertently sparked this past week in our very own river city, Lake City, Minn. We're proud of them, and hope the town's public library can come up with a saner way to dispose of books it doesn't want. Throwing away books strikes us, too, as an outrage. That's Aunt Mavis above with some of the precious loot, which otherwise would be in a landfill by now.

DUMPSTER DIVING

By ELMER "JOE" SPRICK

Lake City, Minn. It may never be a spectator sport. It's best done in the cold winter months, for obvious reasons. We engaged in it a few times when our new home was being built. After hours, we would raid the contracters' dumpster for pieces of plywood and 2-by-4’s that came in handy for workroom shelving and such.

But recently we hit the big time! The city fathers hired a new librarian. Although we were not privileged to see her job description, her earliest mission seemed to be to get rid of books in an overstocked library. A new broom sweeps clean -- with one exception. The librarian’s dog, Booker, doesn’t take up much space and was granted permission to stay in spite of the objections from a book-loving lady who suffers from severe allergies.

An alert concerned citizen reported to us that a new dumpster behind the library was being filled with discarded books -- hundreds of books that would eventually be incinerated or end up in a landfill.

We reasoned that a cold Sunday morning after church would be a good time to raid the dumpster without attracting a lot of attention. Wrong!

No sooner had we begun gleefully rescuing children’s videos and such classic children’s books as "Little Red Riding Hood" and "Cinderella" when the librarian appeared and asked, “What are you looking for?”

Our answer was simple but not completely honest: “We are looking for books for our grandchildren.” Actually we were looking for books and videos for our great-grandchildren. The librarian disappeared, and we continued our pillaging, making off with shopping bags loaded with goodies.

Our next raid was planned for a few days later. I even sacrificed a half day of fishing for a shot at a dumpster laden fresh with books discarded that morning.

But we had not counted on another dumpster diver with a pickup truck who creamed off much of the good stuff. And there was a new chain and padlock over the top of the dumpster. The chain was heavy enough to serve as an anchor chain for the Titanic, albeit a bit too short. The padlock on the end was not locked.

No sooner had we moved the chain aside and starting digging when a middle-aged lady bearing a mean look came out of the library's back door and commenced giving us the what-for. We had her outnumbered four to one, and she made a hasty retreat as a police car pulled up.

We were fearful that we might get honorable mention in the weekly police report. Quite the contrary. We were informed that anything thrown away in a public dumpster is in effect up for grabs.

Just when we thought we had won the battle, a member of the Lake City City Council appeared through the back door of the library. We all know this learned man of many letters -- MS, BA, AA, CFPIM, ICC, FMC. He gave verbose answers to our simple, basic question, which was, “Shouldn’t the public be given an opportunity to salvage some of these books rather than see them wasted?”

His answer: “We can’t have 8,000 people going through our dumpster.” His estimate may have been a bit strong. The city population is only about 5,000 -- and quite a few of them can’t read.

He did have one valid point -- “The city might be faced with a liability problem if someone were injured taking books.” To date, no one has been injured fighting over books, nor has anyone fallen in the dumpster, but I suppose it could happen.

This evening, Mavis boxed up the books for our great-grandchildren. I spied an old favorite of granddaughter Chelsea's -- "Ootah, The Eskimo." I can still picture her as a 3-year-old sitting on my lap and saying, “Read it again, Grandpa.”

And I might just do that.

**********

Your scrapblog editor notes that Joe and Mavis' granddaughter Chelsea is a recent graduate of California's Stanford University who is now at Northwestern University in Illinois. That's exactly the kind of thing that can happen when children are given too many books!

Happy 85th Birthday to Aunt Florence!

2011-01-19T20:44:00.008-06:00

Tomorrow (Jan. 20, 2011) is Aunt Florence Sprick Bye's 85th birthday. Yes, you read that right -- our perennially youthful aunt is 85! Hard to believe. Hope you have a great day, Aunt Florence, and many more birthdays ahead. To mark the day, we stole a few photos from her Facebook page (yes, you read that right -- perennially youthful 85-year-old Aunt Florence has a Facebook page!): Florence is always nominating someone or other for the Coveted Burnt Wienie Award. We think it's time she won it herself. Could this be her year?

Flo with her gentleman pal, Harry Greason of San Diego, Calif.

Flo and Harry are often out dancing long after we younger folks' bedtimes.

Born to be (a little) wild -- that's our Flo! This blog and its sister site have lots of great posts about Florence. To find them, type Florence into the search box, and voila, you'll get all the pages that mention Florence (or Florence Township, which is fun to read about too!).

Oh, what a winter!

2011-01-08T00:35:00.002-06:00

Noah came over Friday to do laundry and ended up raking the roof. Good son!! It's been quite a winter, with lots of snow, ice, wind and frigid weather. But almost imperceptibly, the days are growing a little longer.

Noah explores his roots

2011-01-05T22:50:00.011-06:00

We're proud to present this paper written by Noah, 21, for his Phil 3307 class at the University of Minnesota, where he's a junior this year. We can't help but notice that the scrapblog was a partial source. Noah Johnson Family History Paper Phil 3307 (Social Justice and Community Service) November 16, 2010 "Look unto the rock whence ye were hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence ye were digged." Isaiah 51:1 When thinking of a single person, be it a great hero, despicable despot, or everyday acquaintance, people tend to think of that person as an individual, a whole made up of the sum of his or her experiences. Sometimes people neglect to think that each individual is also a product of the lives of many others, his or her progenitors, and is shaped by their experiences, too. We are raised by our parents, who were raised by their parents, etc., and it is important to remember that even the smallest of events in the lives of one of our ancestors, particularly recent ancestors, may have had a profound influence on who we are as individuals. It is with this in mind that I offer an account of my own family's history, in an effort to see how what my family has been has shaped me. For practical purposes, the story of my family begins with my mother's mother's father, Claus Sprick. Soon after he was born in the newly unified German Empire in 1874, his father attempted to enlist in the Imperial German Army, but was turned away due to pes planus (commonly known as flat feet) [Pam notes: Mom used to tell us this, but I'm not sure we heard it quite right], a hereditary condition which I, generations later, also bear. Because the army would not have him, he brought his family to the United States. They sailed into New York Harbor on July 4th, 1976. It was America's centennial, and the family thought the spectacular, luminous fireworks display that greeted them was an everyday occurrence in America. The family settled in rural southeastern Minnesota, and Claus Sprick worked as a farmhand when he reached adulthood. In 1907, he married Maria Augustin, who also came from a German immigrant family. Together, they had 12 children, of whom 11 survived into adulthood. The ninth child of Claus and Maria Sprick, born on July 23, 1924, was Alverna Edna Sprick, who would become my grandmother. Alverna and her siblings grew up in Lake City, Minnesota, on the banks of Lake Pepin, the widest part of the Mississippi River. The farming lifestyle of the area had a profound effect in shaping the kind of people the Spricks became. When they were still young children, they were routinely expected to perform laborious chores, including milking cows, planting and picking crops, and rising at the first light of dawn. These responsibilities, combined with the family's devout Lutheran faith and work ethic, guided Alverna and her siblings from children into hard-working, self-reliant adults. Alverna became a first-generation college graduate when she earned a degree in English education from Winona State University in 1946. After college, she joined the USO and traveled to West Germany It was during this time that she met Sergeant First Class William Alton Miller, who was also stationed in the country. Miller was a Southerner -- he had been raised in Winston-Salem, North Carolina -- of Scottish ancestry, and the cultural differences between him and the German-American Northern must have been numerous at first. Regardless, they were both Americans in a foreign land, and they fell in love. They were married in 1953 in Hessenthal, West Germany. After the birth of three children and William's Army service in Korea and Vietnam, they settled in Old Frontenac, Minn., near Lake City, where Alverna taught at Lincoln High School. The oldest of their three children is Pamela Marian Miller, my mother. During my mother's childhood, she learned the importance of moral values and education from William and Alverna. Their patriotism and history of military service contrasted with their relatively liberal political views, and these things all had an impact in Pamela's formative years. William, who had fought in World War II, then left and rejoined the Army, served in Korea during her early childhood, and left in the late 1960s for the Vietnam War, as well. Family letters show a correspondence between William and his children, which include reports of their progress in school and play-by-play updates of Minnesota Twins baseball games, which would have been weeks old by the time they reached him in Vietnam. William Miller returned to his family from Vietnam, his last wartime military service, unharmed. Pamela attended Lincoln High School, where she had her own mother as a teacher, and was involved in numerous extra-curricular activities, including serving as editor of her school newspaper, as I would do years later at my own high school (Robbinsdale Cooper High School in New Hope, Minnesota). She graduated in 1974, and moved to Minneapolis to attend the University of Minnesota after two years at the University of Minnesota Duluth. She did well in her studies and worked for the Minnesota Daily, which, again was something I would eventually do, as well. She earned her degree in journalism and anthropology, and soon found herself in Duluth working as a copy editor and reporter for the Duluth News-Tribune. While taking a graduate-level sociolinguistics course at UMD, she met a fellow student named Steven Robert Johnson, who would become my father. The third son of Robert Raymond Johnson, a U.S. Air Force and later commercial pilot of Swedish and Irish ancestry, and Barbara Brown Johnson, a homemaker of English descent, Steve Johnson grew up in the Chicago metropolitan area. In his teenage years, he found a great sense of empowerment in his first experiences working and earning wages. By the time he graduated from high school, he had already proudly earned enough money to own two cars, a motorcycle, and what he purports to be "the best stereo system of anyone I knew." He had no intention of starting college. He worked for four years as a construction worker and carpenter. After this, he decided that higher education would multiply his opportunities and be another source of empowerment. He began studying philosophy and English at UMD in 1978. Steve Johnson and Pamela Miller were married in Duluth in 1986. Steve would eventually earn a master's degree, as Pamela had. They both felt a connection with nature, and spent two years living in Alaska. In 1988 they moved to the Minneapolis area, where I was born on June 17, 1989. Everyone's life is a product of the history of many, the most recent thread on a rich tapestry stretching back millennia, even if only the most recent few centuries are ever remembered. My life is no exception. The qualities that make up my personality, my tastes, my beliefs, and my desires have all been influenced by those of my forebears. To them I can trace my strong work ethic, my belief in the importance of justice and education, my progressive attitude and my fondness for philosophy, music, art, history and journalism, to name but a few of a whole host of qualities. Without the experiences of each of these individuals who share my genetic identity, I would no doubt have a profoundly different personal identity, as well.

Blue-plate special

2011-01-05T21:44:00.006-06:00

Your scrapblog editor is always exhorting the cousins to scour their basements for the priceless blue plates we all received as children for Christmas from Aunt Tex, insure them at high levels and hang them in their kitchens. On Wednesday night, cousin Dan Broberg made a foray into the very cool cellar of his historic Minnetonka home with your bug-eyed scrapblog editor in close tow. Holy cow -- a whole bunch of old plates, many of them blue! Dan generously gave me several of the old plates, including four priceless blue ones as a Christmas present. This one is dated 1974, the year I graduated from high school. By my count, I'm now about $1,256,287 richer, tho inexplicably, eBay and Craigslist prices haven't quite caught up with my appraisement. Seriously tho, they're valuable many which ways, and soon will be hanging in my Robbinsdale and Lake City kitchens. Thanks so much, Dan!

Dan also showed me the secret to making the big, pretty luminaries he has lining his driveway -- heavy old NordicWare angel food cake pans. He lent me two of them to make my own.

Millers finally celebrate Christmas

2010-12-31T01:11:00.022-06:00

A Christmas get-together had to wait for the families of Pam and Chris Miller. Pam's weekend-intensive schedule as a Strib night metro editor, and then the changing fortunes and schedules of those crazy madcap Minnesota Vikings, who control Chris' work schedule, delayed things a while. But on Wednesday night, Pam, Noah and the Millers Seven finally got together to celebrate Christmas 2010. A few snapshots:

With No. 1 son Noah, 21. He'll graduate from the University of Minnesota this coming spring.

Ditto.

Noah and Hannah awaited the dessert, a delectable chocolate ganache made by Mary. Elizabeth with her parents, Mary and Chris. Radiant Moriah with some pretty wild mittens.

Noah with some Catholic-oriented books from Auntie Mary. They'll find a place in his philosophy book collection. Hannah, 17, got a subscription to Seventeen magazine. Sheesh, she's prettier and smarter by far than any of their models, don't you think? Princessa Hannah de Banana. Me by tree. I got a GPS for my car from my nieces, who seem to think I might get lost. Ha ha! When does that ever happen? Oh wait -- last week -- with said nieces in the car. Never mind. Thanks, nieces! AvaMarie, 2, got a magic wand. Watch out, world!

"God bless us all, every one ..."

2010-12-28T23:50:00.022-06:00

Chris and Zachary Miller had to work, but the rest of us Millers, plus one Johnson, Noah, and family friend Mandy Bradac, trooped to downtown Minneapolis this afternoon to see "The Christmas Carol" at the Guthrie Theater. Some photos from before and after the play at that awesome venue on the Mississippi River: Noah, Hannah, Moriah, Mandy and Elizabeth on the blue "endless bridge" that reaches out over the river. Pam, Mandy, Moriah, Hannah and Elizabeth by one of the theater's many cool windows. We ate lunch in the theater's fifth-floor cafe. Elizabeth had the "Merry Mac 'n' Cheese"; Moriah had the Reuben sandwich. Elizabeth and Mary on the blue bridge's balcony. Many people don't know about the Joe Dowling Studio on the Guthrie's ninth floor, perhaps the coolest place in Minneapolis. (The elevator to get to it is a little hard to find.) We call it "the golden room." The golden room has a glass floor through which you can see way, way down to Gold Medal Park. It gave me the vertigo willies to walk on it, but Elizabeth and Mandy were brave, and ventured out on it. Hannah, too, was wowed by the glass floor. Mandy and Moriah are golden girls even when they're not in the golden room. Elizabeth above the big city. Pam, Mandy and Moriah. Noah and Pam. Mary Miller made this casual snapshot of very casual Noah look like a Vermeer painting. Elizabeth's portrait, by her photographer mom. Noah and Hannah with a giant of the theater, Sir Tyrone Guthrie. Cousins Elizabeth and Noah. The beautiful blue theater from the outside.

Family coffee time

2010-12-28T23:45:00.006-06:00

After taking in the Guthrie's matinee of "The Christmas Carol" this afternoon, we strolled down to Caribou Coffee on Washington Avenue N. for a little coffee: Noah, Pam, Hannah, family friend Mandy Bradac, Moriah and Hannah. Hannah, Moriah and Mandy. Me and my No. 1 son, Noah. Mary-Bear and Elizabeth... ... and, ditto. Note that Elizabeth is missing her canine teeth!

Noah's Dinkytown pad

2010-12-28T23:42:00.005-06:00

Noah's room in his neat Dinkytown apartment, which he shares with friends Joe P. and Chris B, reflects his interests ... ... Leonardo da Vinci, Bob Dylan, guitar, reading... ... music, Aristotle ... ... Willie Mays, Pink Floyd and Picasso.

Christmas at the Hagbergs'

2010-12-27T22:33:00.006-06:00

Photos are trickling in from the big Christmas Day gathering at Jane and Ted Hagberg's lovely Woodbury home. Here are a few: Katie Hagberg with her beloved grandma, Katie Sprick. Teddy Hagberg with a few Millers -- Zack, Avamarie and Hannah. Siblings Sarah and Dan Broberg. Siblings Tuck and Joe Kirkwood. Sarah Broberg was surrounded by lovely and loving members of the younger generation: Katie Hagberg and Hannah, Moriah and Elizabeth Miller. She loves her family; you'd better believe it! Uncle John (C.J.) Kirkwood with granddaughter Katie Hagberg, niece Sarah Broberg and great-nieces Hannah, Moriah and Elizabeth Miller. Two hip young relatives: Marty Broberg and Katie Hagberg.

A very merry Sprick family Christmas

2010-12-26T23:16:00.009-06:00

Thanks to Uncle Joe for sharing these snapshots from the Sprick family Christmas: Cousin Dave clears his Eau Claire driveway, which has more lanes than a Wisconsin freeway, with a mini-tractor.

Katie Jo, Mavis, Joe, Chelsea, Ashley, Tanya, Monty and little ones Sonya and Perrin. (Camera-shy Maria slipped away before the photo was snapped.)

Mavis and Joe with son Dave and daughter Cindi.

Dave and Sarah and their three kids, Chelsea, Ashley and Katie Jo.

Monty and Dave played some tunes. Wish we had video! And Merry Christmas to you all!

A very merry Miller Christmas

2010-12-26T23:12:00.003-06:00

The Millers Seven went all digital with their Christmas card this year. Click on the image to make it bigger and easier to read. By the way, the Millers' little family Christmas, scheduled for Tuesday, Dec. 27, because it's Pam's night off, has been disrupted by those @#$! Minnesota Vikings, who just rescheduled their Sunday night game for that night, which means Chris has to work. The Millers are trying to reschedule Miller Christmas, because can't have it without Chris T. Mas Miller himself. Check back next week for photos from that rescheduled event.

A birthday and early Christmas dinner

2010-12-26T23:06:00.005-06:00

Cousin Dan and his sons, Marty and Nick, came over to the scrapblog editor's Robbinsdale house last week to celebrate Dan's 49th birthday and an early Christmas. Some snapshots: Dan blows out his candles as Marty watches warily, his phone nearby in case he needs to text 911 about a big fire.

Used to be, Dan could talk down to son Nick, but not anymore! Both his sons are way taller than Dan is, and Dan's not short by any means.

Nick created eerie music on his goblet. We took a video of this concert, but can't seem to get the darn thing to upload.

Nick, Dan and Marty. The scrapblog editor is old enough to remember when these people -- ALL of them -- were short tots.

Congrats to Noah's cousin, Erica, upon her marriage

2010-12-26T23:05:00.003-06:00

Warm congrats to Noah's first cousin on his dad's side, Erica Johnson, upon her November 2010 marriage to Kris Lott in Florida, where they live. Erica is the daughter of Betsy and Gary Johnson, the eldest brother of Noah's dad, Steve Johnson. Kris is a deputy sheriff; Erica is a teacher.

Some Johnsons are on the left side of this photo. They include Bob and Barbara (in wheelchair) Johnson, Noah's paternal grandparents; David Johnson, Noah's uncle; Gary and Betsy Johnson, and their other children, sons Ross and Kyle.

The boy and the horse: A story by Uncle Joe

2010-12-24T19:50:00.012-06:00

Usually we post these longer family essays on our auxiliary archives blog, http://www.thesprickfamilypapers.blogspot.com/. But to mark this Christmas weekend, we'll put an especially nice one on this more frequently accessed blog. It was written some years back by Uncle Joe. Though it's not about Christmas, specifically, it evokes the spirit of gratitude, acceptance and relishing of the cards one has been dealt that we've come to associate with our finest forebears. Merry Christmas, everyone! THE OLD GRAY MARE By ELMER "JOE" SPRICK Auction! Four miles north of Theilman, Minn., off County Road 4, Saturday, Sept. 27, 1941. Owner, Claus Sprick. Among the nine head of horses listed for sale on that 1941 auction bill was a 12-year-old gray mare. I was 14 that fall, and that auction day marked a turning point in my life. It, and our family's subsequent move from our farm near West Albany, Minn., into the small town of Lake City, Minn., meant I would have the opportunity to attend high school, a privilege that not all of my older siblings had received. Although it should have been one of the happiest days of my life, it was a sad one, too, because it meant giving up the small team of riding and work horses that I had grown up with. Babe was listed on the auction bill as a gray mare, but she was almost white except for her legs, which were dark gray, almost black. She was born out on the open range of the Dakotas in the 1930s. A brand was burned into her left front shoulder, a cross covered by an inverted V. The yearling range horses were rounded up and shipped east, where horse traders sold them to farmers for use as draft horses. It was during the Depression, and many farmers could not afford the price of a good Percheron draft horse. Very few farmers had tractors. My father, Claus Sprick, purchased three of the range horses, all yearlings. Babe was the first; two young stallions were purchased a year later. It wasn't until nearly 40 years later that one of my older brothers admitted to doing some matchmaking that had resulted in Babe's foal. I played with that foal, Topsy, almost from the day she was born. By the time she was a yearling, I could ride her around the farmyard without a halter or bridle. When Topsy was 2, my older brother tried to train her with a saddle and bridle. Topsy promptly threw him off, and he never tried to ride her again. To my knowledge, no one else did, either. She was a one-person horse. When Topsy was 3, she was harnessed and trained to work alongside her mother, Babe. I drove them as a team, doing a variety of chores on the farm when I was 12. The summer of my 13th birthday, my dad let me take the team with the crew on the threshing ring. Every horse has its own personality, but the range horses, or broncos as we called them, all had something in common: They were tough! They would work all day alongside the big Percherons pulling a binder or hay wagon and loader. At night, after our evening meal, we would ride them to round up the milk cows. Given a choice, the broncos didn't walk, they ran. The moment your foot reached the stirrup or you got a leg over a bareback, the horse was on the run. The old harnesses worn by the team of Babe and Topsy were patched and riveted time and time again. Any time there was an unexpected noise and the team was not tied securely, the horses would take off running. It was usually me who they escaped from until I became older and strong enough to hold them. One day they ran away from my dad. He had them hitched to a stoneboat loaded with a large box that he was filling with freshly dug potatoes. By the time the team reached the barn and stopped running, there were potatoes scattered for a distance of over one-quarter mile. Recently, I dug out the receipts from the farm auction. They had been buried in an old cardboard box for 54 years. The team of Babe and Topsy sold for $120. Today I have the means to buy the team back, something I always dreamed of doing. But Babe would be 66 years old! She has long since gone to greener pastures. The farm auction grossed $5,625.41, enough to purchase an old two-bedroom house at 201 N. Washington St. in Lake City and install a modern bathroom in it. That house would be shared by my folks and three of us Sprick kids who were still in school. Although I have never again owned a horse, I still like to ride occasionally. There is still a bit of cowboy in some of us that cannot be displaced by a new set of wheels.

Photo above: Alverna Sprick rode Babe in the 1930s on the Sprick family farm. Photos further above, from top: Babe at the auction; the auction bill; Ed and Joe Sprick in the field; Elmer, Florence, Alverna and Katie with Babe.

Friends as good as family

2010-12-19T17:54:00.005-06:00

Your scrapblog editor enjoyed her annual Christmas meal and drinks by the fire (her Robbinsdale fireplace is the real thing) Saturday night with two dear old pals -- Michie T. and Colleen S. We may have had a glass of wine or two by the time this photo was taken. Pam, Colleen and Christmas lasagna.

Flapjacks for friends

2010-12-16T00:43:00.003-06:00

Your scrapblog editor found this photo on her little camera today. It was taken, unbeknownst to me, by friend Chris Welsch one morning last week from my Robbinsdale dining room as I cooked whole-wheat pancakes for myself, Chris and his wife, Silke Schroeder, sitting in the kitchen chair. The breakfast for Chris and Silke, who I was welcoming back from a few months of life and work in Paris, prominently featured maple syrup harvested in Old Frontenac, Minn., by cousin Dan Broberg. Thanks, Dan! I'm posting this photo because it features PRICELESS BLUE PLATES! Cousins, you have some in your kitchens too, yes? And yes, my Robbinsdale kitchen ceiling really IS pink. And my living room is bright green, and other rooms are bright blue and yellow. Your scrapblog editor likes bright colors! (Though the primary color in my Lake City place is beige, which conventional wisdom says is the color you want in a place for sale. I'm not so sure that conventional wisdom is sound.)

"All I want for Christmas is ...

2010-12-16T00:35:00.002-06:00

... my two front teeth." Teeth or no, 7-year-old Maria C., daughter of Tanya and Levi, grandchild of Cyndi Sprick O'Donahoe, great-grandchild of Elmer and Mavis Sprick, is a remarkably beautiful and intelligent child, as is her older sister, Sonya, at left. By the way, we wish Maria, Sonya, brother Perrin, mom Tanya and dad Levi the best of luck as they pursue new adventures in Denver, Colo., in 2011.

A literary evening

2010-12-02T01:32:00.011-06:00

Noah and I went to a reading and book signing by our friend Laurie Hertzel, author of "News to Me: Adventures of an Accidental Journalist" at Common Good Books in St. Paul on Wednesday night. Laurie spoke to a small, friendly crowd.

Laurie and Noah after she signed books. You can see an old photo of Garrison Keillor, the St. Paul bookstore's proprietor, behind them. Back when Laurie lived in Duluth, Noah, then a little kid, and I used to meet her and her awesome dog, Toby, at Kettle River State Park, halfway between Duluth and Minneapolis, for hikes and picnics.

Laurie and her very fine husband, Doug Iverson, at W.A. Frost after the reading. F. Scott Fitzgerald's ghost lurks somewhere in the background of this elegant old St. Paul bar.

Laurie's camera somehow made a dark bar on a cold night look like a summer garden party. Nice trick!

A scrapblog chestnut

2010-12-01T01:35:00.002-06:00

Yes, it's that time of year again, when you're wracking your brain to figure out what to get your cousins for Christmas. Here's a helpful chestnut from the scrapblog archives.

A dear ol' Lake City friend

2010-12-01T01:14:00.008-06:00

Your scrapblog editor is blessed not just with awesome relatives (yourselves, that is), but great friends. One of my oldest and dearest is Karen "Swanie" Swanson, fellow Lincoln High School (Lake City, Minn.) Class of '74 graduate and Lincoln Torch coeditor. Yesterday (11/30/2010), Swanie, who is now an Episcopalian priest in California, arrived in Minnesota to visit her parents, Henning and Ruth Swanson, in Lake City. We had a great visit on the drive from the airport and over dinner at Bronk's Bar in Lake City. Along the way, we stopped at the Red Wing grocery store to pick up some treats for her Norwegian-American parents -- lutefisk and lefse. Her cart also contained pickled herring and rosettes. Some photos from an earlier visit this summer, when Swanie and I went hiking (and got pleasantly lost) on the steep trails at Kruger Park south of Lake City.

It poured down rain, but we didn't let that stop us!

The view from the top of one hill of the greener-than-green Zumbro River Valley (or, as residents call it, "the bottoms").

Happy Birthday to cousin Tanya!

2010-11-26T01:38:00.002-06:00

Happy Birthday to lovely and brilliant cousin Tanya Cook, daughter of cousin Cindi O'Donohoe, granddaughter of Elmer and Mavis Sprick, and mom to Perrin, Sonya and Maria (show here in her Harry Potter-themed Halloween costume).

Thanksgiving traditions

2010-11-26T01:17:00.023-06:00

It's becoming something of a Miller family tradition for Auntie Pam and the Miller nieces to visit a Twin Cities museum on the day before Thanksgiving. This year we went to the Minneapolis Institute of Art, which was almost deserted because of a snowstorm. Some snapshots: Many beautiful things were born in China, including this sand mandala (crafted by Buddhist monks) and Elizabeth Miller, age 7.

Hannah liked this 1909 painting by Robert Delauney, "Church of Saint-Sevens, Paris."

Hannah and Moriah by a Frank Stella painting.

Dang, forgot to write down the artist on this one.

Moriah, Hannah and Elizabeth by the great museum window that showcases downtown Minneapolis, our lovely city.

Hannah, Elizabeth and Moriah tossed pennies into the museum fountain. Not pictured were several security guards, who seemed to follow us through the museum, perhaps because we were among the very few patrons that snowy day. Or maybe they were just fascinated by the Miller girls!

Afterwards, we ate pizza and played hot games of Memory and Scrabble at my house in Robbinsdale. Hannah beat us all in Scrabble. I've forgotten who won the Memory game, except that it wasn't me. (Ha!)

Hannah used a dictionary, which helped her score on complicated X, Q, Z and J words.

The next day was Thanksgiving. Hope you all had a good one! Your scrapblog editor went up to the Millers' lovely place in Centerville, where Lavone Broberg and Dan Broberg were also guests. Here they dished up healthy salad.

Hannah took photos, Moriah texted and dad Chris looked on, proud of his awesome teenage girls. P.S.: Those glasses of wine weren't QUITE as large as the camera made them appear.

Hannah cradled little sis Avamarie during her afternoon nap. Awwwww.

Miller girrrrrls! Moriah, Avamarie and Hannah.

Mary Miller, the architect of our grand Thanksgiving feast, with daughters Elizabeth, Avamarie and Hannah and guest Lavone Broberg.

Cousin Dan with Avamarie and Hannah.

Congrats to a young Eagle Scout

2010-11-15T18:53:00.008-06:00

Congratulations to cousin Marty Broberg, who worked hard to master the difficult skills needed to become an Eagle Scout. Marty, 18, the son of Dan Broberg and Cathy Broberg and brother of Nick, is a recent graduate of Hopkins High School. His late grandparents, Wally and Marion Broberg, would be very proud of his achievement.

Marty with his dad, cousin Dan Broberg, and his first cousin, Zachary Broberg, himself a Scout, at the Nov. 27 ceremony. At Marty's request, Zack carried the troop colors flag in and out of the event.

Congrats, Marty!

One heckuva storm, 70 years ago today

2010-11-11T11:00:00.011-06:00

Our senior aunts and uncles are old enough to remember Minnesota's storm of the past century, the Armistice Day blizzard of Nov. 11, 1940, 70 years ago today. Minneapolis Star Tribune reporter Bill McAuliffe has written a great story about that whopper in today's paper. Aunt Annette and Uncle Hart Kulseth, pictured below, had an especially vivid memory of it because it came just a couple of weeks before their Nov. 30, 1940, wedding. (Earlier, your scrapblog editor had written that they were married on the day of the big storm, an assertion that caused a certain astute uncle of ours to raise one serene, skeptical, Sprick eyebrow, then do some research that proved their wedding was actually Nov. 30. Can a Coveted Burnt Wienie Award be far in the scrapblog editor's future?) We like Bill's story so much we'll include it here in its entirety, since Strib links go away in a couple-three weeks: Remembering a storm for the ages By BILL McAULIFFE mcaul@startribune.com There have been storms with more snow. There have been storms with cruel temperature drops, screaming winds and freakish barometer readings, and storms that have killed people and paralyzed the region for days.

But 70 years later, the 1940 Armistice Day blizzard still has a firm hold on the Minnesota imagination, perhaps because it was the last truly old-fashioned blizzard.

"I'm old enough to remember it," said weather historian Tom St. Martin of Woodbury, who recalled snow blowing under the doors and into the kitchen of his family's farmhouse in western Minnesota. "The forecasts of the day were just not good. People were unprepared for it.

"My guess is, like most historical events, it will fade a bit as time goes on," he said. "But as far as I know, it was one of the last ones with significant casualties."

In all, 49 people died in Minnesota in the three-day storm. Most weather watchers believe it's unlikely to happen again, due to factors ranging from better forecasting to better cars and clothing.

No one saw it coming

In 1940, weather forecasting was approaching significant breakthroughs. World War II would bring the discovery of the jet stream and an understanding that radar could find precipitation in the sky. But U.S. entry into the war was still 13 months away. The first computers, well-suited to the vast amount of data involved in tracking weather and building forecast models, wouldn't be built until just after the war. Forecasting in 1940 was still a vague and primitive exercise, centralized in a few government offices around the United States -- not including the Twin Cities.

Somehow, the fact that a storm approaching from the west had already snapped the Tacoma Narrows bridge in Washington wasn't reflected in forecasts for Nov. 11, 1940, for the Midwest. The forecast for Armistice Day called for only colder temperatures and a chance of snow flurries. The Chicago office of the National Weather Service, which issued forecasts for the Upper Midwest, actually had no one on duty the night of Nov. 10.

Hunters all over Minnesota awoke on what was a holiday Monday to find temperatures around 40 degrees and ducks (who many later thought probably knew what was coming) flying thick and fast over the prairies and sloughs.

Soon, of course, a misty rain turned to a driving snow, trapping hundreds of hunters on islands in the Mississippi River, where many died. The storm dropped 26 inches of snow at Collegeville and 16.8 inches in the Twin Cities and formed concrete-like drifts that cars could drive on afterward. Some drifts at Willmar were measured at 20 feet tall.

Ralph Nistler, a 6-year-old then who grew up to be a meteorologist, recalls riding in his dad's car through the storm south of St. Cloud, while his older brother stood on the running boards, shouting to his dad to tell him where the edge of the road was.

Visibility in downtown Minneapolis was zero for seven hours straight during the storm. Metro area streets were choked by cars abandoned in snow that drifted to the rooftops. Streetcars and buses that managed to keep running often needed hours to navigate a few blocks; some residents brought hot meals to commuters stuck on them. Those whose streetcars didn't show up at all, or who got off to start walking, were blown into building walls or reduced to crawling. Hundreds stayed in downtown hotels, bars and even gas stations. In Watkins, two people were killed when a passenger train and a freight train collided after an engineer had missed a signal in the heavy snow. Winds in Duluth blew at 63 mph. In the Twin Cities, the temperature fell from 38 to 10 on Nov. 11, and rose only to 11 the next day.

Could it ever happen again?

Minnesota was a far different place then. A greater share of the population lived on farms and in small cities. All telephones were land lines, and not everybody had those. There was no Twitter. There wasn't even television.

There were no interstate highways. Most cars weren't as capable in snow as they are now. Even prepared hunters and travelers wore water-absorbent wool, not the lightweight, waterproof, insulating fabrics of today's outerwear.

A classic November storm like the Armistice Day blizzard could still develop, said University of Minnesota Extension meteorologist Mark Seeley. The increasing strength might be hard to estimate ahead of time, Seeley said, but the public would be prepared. Radar and the broad network of forecast agencies and the public would spot it coming. Meteorologists understand storm dynamics much better today. National Weather Service offices now communicate with one another continually, covering what were huge gaps in awareness 70 years ago.

Forecasts for regions of Minnesota are now issued by offices in the Twin Cities; Sioux Falls, S.D.; Grand Forks, N.D.; Duluth. Minn.; and La Crosse, Wis. That is an indirect result of the Armistice Day blizzard.

The 1940 blizzard gave Minnesotans bragging rights, Seeley said. But after another blizzard the following March killed 32 people in Minnesota, "that just really got people up in arms," he said. "And the Minnesota congressional delegation went berserk. They humiliated the weather service on the floor of the House." Soon, the Twin Cities had a forecast office of its own, operating round-the-clock.

The number of survivors of the Armistice Day blizzard is dwindling. But, unlike the great prairie blizzards that preceded it, it met a people who were eager to write the stories down and take loads of pictures. Bigger snows may come along -- and get plowed away -- but the volumes of written and oral narratives and stacks of still-breathtaking photos from Nov. 11-13, 1940, are likely to keep it high in Minnesota's weather memory.

Nistler, meanwhile, said he doesn't tire of being asked about it.

"After you've gone through it and refreshed memory every year, it still seems vivid."

Bill McAuliffe • 612-673-7646

Marking Veterans' Day

2010-11-11T10:48:00.004-06:00

U.S. Navy WAVES veteran Anna Sprick Smith, 90, was among those marking Veterans' Day this week at a Lake City Nursing Home program. Preparing to sing patriotic songs along with the residents were Uncle John Kirkwood (himself a veteran of the military police), Aunt Mavis Sprick (Uncle Joe, a Navy veteran, was out in a deer stand) and Aunt Katie Kirkwood. Anna proudly wore her U.S. Navy hat, a gift from Aunt Florence. Katie explained the proceedings to Anna and lovingly helped her with her root beer float. It's hard to say how much Anna takes in these days; she doesn't say much, but retains her sweet smile and gracious manners. To read about Anna's military career, go here.

3 generations

2010-11-11T10:45:00.002-06:00

Some Sprick cousins recently got together in Wisconsin. A few of them posed nicely: Tanya Cook; Cindi O'Donohoe, Mavis Sprick and Monty Leiser.

Tyler's homecoming

2010-10-20T23:26:00.007-05:00

A belated Happy 18th Birthday to cousin Tyler Broberg, son of Sam and Bridget. Tyler, a senior, is a star with Eagan High School's football Wildcats. A couple photos from Eagan's homecoming:

With his homecoming date. With proud younger brothers Alex and Zachary.

Tyler excels in sports, academics and kindness to others. We're proud to claim him as a cousin!

The chain-saw gang

2010-10-20T23:10:00.003-05:00

Cousin Dave and his dad, Elmer "Joe" Sprick, sure know how to have a good time. These zany madcap loggerheads like to get together on weekends and cut out culls. Here they are at Dave's Eau Claire estate after a hard morning's work.

Playing soccer with Elizabeth

2010-10-20T23:00:00.007-05:00

Anyone who knows young cousin Elizabeth Miller knows that even at 7, she's a go-getter. Check out these photos of her playin' soccer: Run, Izbee, run! Being cheered on by her best pal, Sophie. Just try gettin' past her! Elizabeth's dad, Chris Miller, jokes that when she plays goalie, they call her the "Great Wall of China."

Happy 90th Birthday to our dear Aunt Anna!

2010-10-16T02:24:00.017-05:00

No Sprick sibling of her generation has lived this long. Happy 90th Birthday, Aunt Anna (born Oct. 16, 1920, in Lake City, Minn.)! We love you! (If you want to send Anna a card, she's at: Anna Sprick Smith, Resident, Lake City Nursing Home, 500 W. Grant St., Lake City, MN 55041). A few photos from her long and lovely life: On the porch at the L-shaped farmhouse in West Albany Township, Minn., with kid sister Marion Sprick (later Broberg). Anna's at right, in the jaunty cap. Poverty was general then, but the Sprick kids were well-loved, so they thrived.

With siblings Clarence and Marion Sprick.

Anna Sprick, confirmation photo.

With handsome brothers Elmer (Joe) and LeRoy Sprick.

Anna, far right, after her wedding to Hal Smith, with relatives Vi Sanders Sprick (wife of brother LeRoy), Marion Sprick Broberg, Adelaide Sprick Detlefsen and Hal.

Anna with her very first niece, little Leah Sprick (later Davidson).

As a WAVE during World War II with sister Alverna Sprick (later Miller) and Marion Sprick (later Broberg) and niece Leah Sprick (later Davidson). Anna, the lovely and noble WAVE, during World War II.

After World War II with siblings Edward Sprick and Marion Sprick (later Broberg). All served their country during that great and grim war.

With nephew Christopher Edward Miller and niece Pamela Marian Miller in 1958.

With sister Alverna Sprick Miller, her dear sibling and friend. With great-nephews Nick and Marty Broberg. At the Berlin Wall.

Noah and Jamie visit Old Frontenac

2010-10-06T01:00:00.015-05:00

Noah and Jamie spent this past weekend in Lake City and Old Frontenac, where to Noah's mom's delight, they visited all the great places -- the marina and Bronk's in Lake City, the park, the beach, my land, the old Miller house and the memorial benches in Old and New Frontenac. They shared a few snapshots: Noah by Grandpa and Grannie Miller's old house, where he spent many happy days playing as a little kid. By the very fine outhouse on his mom's Old Frontenac land, where this immortal, oft-quoted exchange took place when he was a little kid: "Grannie, I don't want to use an outhouse!" "But Noah, why not? There are 50 years' worth of history in that outhouse!" Jamie hugged one of my sugar maples. Beyond, the grapevine windbreak and the Old Frontenac field.

Noah and Jamie took a break on Grandpa and Grandma Miller's memorial bench, which sits in the northeast corner of the Old Frontenac field.

Noah ran across the field, just as he did when he was a little kid, and just as his mom, uncle and aunt once did when they were kids.

Jamie and Noah at Frontenac State Park.

Amid the prairie plants at Frontenac State Park.

Noah on a park trail.

Jamie on a park trail. Watch for deer, watch for birds, watch for Lakota ghosts.

Honoring a senior Sprick

2010-10-02T22:54:00.003-05:00

On Oct. 16, 2010, our dear Aunt Anna Sophia Sprick Smith will turn 90, making her the longest-living Sprick kid of her generation. Life isn't easy for Anna now -- she's living in the Lake City Nursing Home, struggling valiantly with mobility and memory problems. But her sweet good nature remains intact, and she seems content. This weekend, a few folks visited her to welcome her birthday month: The surviving Sprick siblings: Florence, Joe (Elmer), Katie and Anna.

Anna has a smile for every visitor.

Cousin Britta Augustin, from Germany, was a very special guest.

Seven 'n' seventeen

2010-10-02T00:44:00.028-05:00

Life being precious and all, your scrapblog editor believes in celebrating every birthday. Also, birthdays involve cake, and what is better than cake? This past Thursday night, a few of your Miller cousins gathered at Auntie Pam's Robbinsdale place to eat large amounts of pink cake, oops, we mean to celebrate two very important birthdays, Hannah Miller's 17th and Elizabeth Miller's 7th. Some snapshots (most by wonderful photographer Mary Miller, which means that once again, to our horror, we don't have any photos of lovely Mary herself, ack): Our birthday princessas, Elizabeth, 7, and Hannah, 17. Let's get this fire, we mean par-tay, started! Bring on the matches! The pink cake was made by Auntie Pam, who reluctantly agreed to share it with the other people at the party.

Cousin Noah lit the candles.

Luckily, the smoke alarms did not go off.

Making a wish or two.

Why yes, the pink cake is delicious, especially with pink ice cream, opined cousin Avamarie Miller, 2. May I have a third piece?

Elizabeth then commenced to open a pink card. The card's theme was Dora the Explorer, who looks somewhat like Elizabeth.

Elizabeth displayed some of her gifts, expensive children's books that Auntie Pam got dirt-cheap at the Star Tribune employees' book sale (don't tell anybody!).

This Barbie doll looks just like Elizabeth!

And this Barbie doll looks just like Hannah! Actually, Hannah is prettier -- and better dressed!

Avamarie and her older sis, Hannah, cuddled on the big red couch.

Awwwww. What a great big sistah Hannah is! (We missed other big sister Moriah Miller, who was away at Minnesota State University-Mankato.)

Handsome young Zachary Miller with Auntie Pam, she of the very square face and ... mismatched eyes??!! Good heavens! Is Auntie Pam turning into Marty Feldman??!!

Whew! That's a little more like it!

Suddenly, a small child butted in on Zack and Pam's portrait, considerably increasing the cuteness quotient.

Cousins Noah Johnson, 21, and Zachary Miller, 22. Wish Grandpa and Grandma Miller were alive to see their beloved grandsons, all grown up! Cousin Chris gave a few speeches. Everyone listened closely!

After the hubbub died down, Elizabeth, now a first-grader, did some seriously excellent coloring in her new Barbie Princesses coloring book. Even better, she read that all-time classic, "Go Dog Go!" to her mom, dad and Auntie Pam.

Happy 82nd Birthday to Uncle John!

2010-10-01T13:12:00.004-05:00

Happy 82nd Birthday to Uncle John (C.J.) Kirkwood! We love you, Uncle Deadeye! Here he is with granddaughter Katie Hagberg.

Can't ever have too many cute kid photos!

2010-09-29T00:48:00.009-05:00

What darling little ones there are in our extended family! ... Elizabeth Miller, just turned 7, the princess of first grade.

Elizabeth and Avamarie Miller in what dad Chris Miller wryly calls their "fake smile" photo, but we think they look genuinely pleased.

Hey! Enough pictures! says Avamarie. We suspect the ones we've posted on the blog so far are just the first few of several hundred thousand more by the time she's a teenager!

Meanwhile, in Wisconsin, little Maria, daughter of Tanya and Levi, granddaughter of Cindy and DanO, great-granddaughter of Joe and Mavis, recently turned 7 and celebrated at a "messy party." What, you ask, is a messy party?

Here it is! The guests had a great time doing, er, messy things, many of them also artistic. Perhaps we should try this at next year's Burnt Wienie! Among the party-goers above are Maria's siblings, Sonia and Perrin. Happy Birthday, Maria!

How every cousin should decorate!

2010-09-29T00:46:00.002-05:00

We've enjoyed cousin Cindy's Facebook photos of her decorating/design at her and DanO's Eau Claire home, especially this one. Check out the blue plates, cousins!

Happy Birthday to Sarah!

2010-09-27T21:43:00.005-05:00

Look who's 46! Happy Birthday to dear cousin Sarah Broberg! In this photo of a delicious homemade cake you may also notice a cousin. It's SarahBroberg, SarahBroberg!

Sarah with nephews Alex, Zachary and Tyler Broberg.

Bonus photo: Tyler, who is a senior at Eagan High School, has been visiting colleges lately. He got a tour of Minnesota State University Mankato from his second cousin Moriah Miller, who is a sophomore there.

Blue sky, blue lake, no more blues

2010-09-22T23:40:00.004-05:00

Your scrapblog editor has had a somewhat harrowing few days, so was happy to spend a day off in good ol' Lake City. Uncle Joe kindly launched his boat for a little fishin', despite a brisk wind. Not many fish were caught -- Uncle Joe reeled in two perch and your scrapblog editor caught the world's smallest bluegill (which is saying something, since they're all diminutive), but it was a excellent stress-busting morning nonetheless. Saw eagles, herons, ducks and pretty Lake Pepin under a blue sky. A couple of snapshots:

Sending good wishes to...

2010-09-20T23:32:00.005-05:00

Our thoughts this week are with Noah's dad, Steve Johnson, and his wife, Ann, who were injured Saturday when their motorcycle hit a deer near Buffalo, Minn. Ann suffered minor injuries, but Steve was seriously injured and remains in the trauma unit at North Memorial Medical Center in Robbinsdale, Minn. Here are a couple old photos of Noah and his dad: In late 1989.

In 1995.

American as can be

2010-09-20T23:22:00.003-05:00

Today (Sept. 20, 2010) is momentous indeed: Avamarie Miller's adoption was finalized and she became a bona-fide American citizen. Congrats, Avamarie, and congrats, Millers! And watch out, world! This kid will go far. With proud parents Chris and Mary, and the judge who made it official.

Avamarie, American citizen and Miller.

First day, first grade

2010-09-20T23:19:00.005-05:00

Little cousin Elizabeth Miller's first day of first grade at an elementary school in Centerville, Minn., was proudly recorded by her photographer mom, Mary Miller: At the bus stop: "Who, me?"

Sneaking a polite peek at one of those cute older boys.

"OK, Mom, that's enough pictures; you can go home now!"

Lotsa Millers

2010-09-09T18:49:00.004-05:00

The Miller siblings -- Pam, Chris and Cathy -- and their families had a fun Minnesota reunion in August. Here they all are in one photo: front row, Elizabeth, Chats and Michael; back row, Zachary, Mary, Avamarie, Hannah, Pam, Noah, Moriah and Chris. Wouldn't Bill and Alverna be proud?

A friend hits the big time

2010-09-09T13:35:00.003-05:00

Congrats to your scrapblog editor's old pal Laurie Hertzel, who just published her second book, "News to Me: Adventures of an Accidental Journalist." It's a great read, with lots of humor and history. If you're on Facebook, friend Laurie and tell her you're my cousin! She loves the cousins! Laurie's publisher, the University of Minnesota Press, held a book-launching party for her Tuesday night at the Open Book at The Loft in downtown Minneapolis.

A few of the old Duluth News Tribune crowd at the Loft party: Steve Stearns, Joey McLeister, Doug Iverson (Laurie's husband), Laurie, Katy Read and yours truly.

Sprick-style decorating

2010-09-09T13:33:00.002-05:00

Love this photo that cousin Cindi Sprick O'Donahoe sent of one of the redone rooms in her new home. As soon as we get translations of the old German plaques, we'll add them. They go great with the deer head! The only thing missing? BLUE plates!

State Fair '10

2010-09-09T13:23:00.013-05:00

On the last scorching day before the weather grew chilly, we went to the Minnesota State Fair, which we love. A few snapshots: Do'oh! Jamie and Noah as Marge and Homer.

Before Noah could do the fun stuff, he had to do some work for his job as a reporter for the Minnesota Daily. The story was about DNA testing some U researchers are doing with the help of fair-goers.

Ah, the seed art. We miss seeing Lillian Colton, the seed-art expert who died a couple of years ago.

At the Horticulture Building.

The deformed vegetables exhibit.

The Christmas tree exhibit at the Horticulture Building is always one of my favorite places to go. It's cool, restful and beautiful.

Yes, they're 21 now!

On the Ferris wheel.

For much of the day we were at the fair, there was a big power outage going on. Couldn't get much to eat, even, during its duration! When it was over, Jamie celebrated with cheese curds and Noah with a deep-fried Twinkie.

After the power outage ended, we were able to ride on our favorite ride, the Sky Glider.

Happy Birthday to Uncle Joe!

2010-08-22T17:48:00.001-05:00

Happy, Happy Birthday to Uncle Joe (Elmer Sprick), who is a very young 83 today! Among the relatives helping him celebrate this weekend were granddaughters Katie Jo and Chelsea.