more than a hike

I've climbed a few figurative mountains in my lifetime, but last month, I climbed one for real. I traveled to Seattle to visit my brother and sister, who live in the metro area. They like to hike mountains in their spare time, and I've been enamoured with photos of their various altitudinal conquests over the years.

I requested we hike up something easy that sunny Saturday morning, since I had zero physical training of the vertical variety. While I had logged hundreds of miles in preparation for my upward challenge, Minnesota and North Dakota are notoriously flat. They chose Rattlesnake Ledge, a leisurely 1,061-foot stroll up well-trodden paths through a mossy Twilightesque forest.

Reaching the top was such a feeling of accomplishment. We could see gorgeous views for miles and miles. As the name indicates, the top of the mountain offers a sheer cliff drop off one side, down down down to a dried-up lake bed below.

I am haunted by that cliff drop. You can see in the picture how some of my climbing partners scrambled down near the ledge, laughing and chatting like it was nothing. Me, I crept down, slowly and deliberately, hyper aware of every step, ever foot placement, every slight gust of wind. I couldn't go to the edge. Someone had fallen over the edge earlier this year. I have an irresistible daughter and a happy life - I ran all the risk algorythms in my head and there is no way I could get close to the edge.

Haunted. Even now, a month later, my stomach still clenches up into knots when I think about standing near the ledge and how easy it would have been for a gust of wind to blow me over the side. Yet, I'm also haunted by the magical beauty of the forests, the incredible beauty of the natural world - the clouds swirling in the sky, the centuries of age wrinkled into the face of the mountainside.

More valuable than the intense workout or the spiritual cleansing was the unexpected and instant reminder of the beauty and fragility of life, not only my own, but that of my family and others. The experience was profound.

I'm hooked and already looking forward to tackling another mountain. I hope the next one is just as moving, but without the whole terrifying cliff thing.

home is where the bacon is

I started a new job last month in which I now work from home as a senior consultant for a management, research and consulting firm in Washington, D.C.

It has been an interesting adjustment, learning to work from home. I share an office with two dogs who snore the day away in the sun. I'm left to my own devices to start and stop my workday. Sometimes I don't reach 5th gear until mid-morning and unmentionable Diet Cokes. It actually takes quite a bit of work to stay away from all of the distractions - laundry, TV, naps, chores, homework. You'd think it would be easier than working in a bustling medical school with people all over the place. I think it's more challenging.

Then there's the whole "getting to know my colleagues" via e-mail and phone. I know three of them "in person" already; it will be interesting to finally put faces and voices together at some point in the near future.

One of the most perplexing comments that I have received multiple times since taking the new job is, "So...is your daughter going to stay at home with you now instead of going to daycare?"

Um, NO. She's one. I can barely take a shower by myself when she's home, let alone put in a full eight plus hours at the office. She is absolutely going to daycare.

I am intrigued by the underlying reasoning to that statement. I haven't quite been able to put my finger on it, but it's almost as if some people perceive my new job to be a step down the professional ladder, as if I'm throttling back and working parttime making soaps to sell on Etsy or somthing. By the way, I have nothing agains working parttime making soaps to sell on Etsy, it sounds downright fantastic at times, but it's not my chosen trajectory, ya know? The new job is, in fact, a massively fat promotion with much more supervisory responsibility, higher profile clients and a well-known academic affiliation.

I feel a little bit insulted, but I realize it's because they don't know about my chosen trajectory. They might not know about the four years spent grinding away at a PhD, or my packed away hopes and dreams of working in Washington, DC, or the countless hours networking at conferences and events. All some might see is that girl who goes out to get the mail in her pajama pants, or is jogging along the river in the afternoons. That is not the image of a Beltway executive. I can see where one might get confused.

I'm not confused, I'm crystal clear. This job equals dream job. I get to work for a company in my favorite city, yet live in the Midwest near family and friends. I get to be a part of growing and shaping a successful new firm. And I get to go home (or at least down the hallway) at the end of the day feeling gratified, knowing the work we are doing is contributing to the greater good.

toddler gourmet

The little monster, all of 21 months old, has an affinity for cooking and baking.

It all started with her grandma; they started baking together a few months ago. Grandma sewed her two pint-sized aprons (one for home, one for grandma's house). First it was chocolate chip cookies, then it was brownies. It seems I've got a budding souz chef on my hands.

This week, when I asked her if she'd like to help mommy make dinner, she went to the cupboard and grabbed her apron. Then she pushed a chair up to the counter. Together, we made taco pizza, followed by a batch of blueberry muffins. She likes to help add ingredients, watch the mixer swirl around, and feel the textures of different things. Rachael Ray's 30 Minute Meals do not exist in my kitchen; I conjur up enormous amounts of patience while Annika adds chocolate chips one by one, or spreads out pizza sauce for ten agonozing minutes.

While I have no recollection, my mother must have done the same with me. I probably enjoyed it, too. However, my hankering for cooking didn't emerge again until my late 20s, when we were thinking about starting a family and making healthier choices beyond the boxed, processed, bad-for-you food scene. Where there once lived wonderbread now exists multigrain. Turkey substitutes for hamburger everywhere except hamburger. Veggies and fruits accompany every meal and sometimes get snuck in for an extra boost of vitamins, ala Sneaky Chef. We eat nearly every meal at home.

So I don't mind taking the extra time and mess to let little Annika help in the kitchen. It is a fun way to introduce her to new foods, an interactive learning activity and a channel to pass down Norwegian recipes that have been in the family for four generations.

Bon appetit!

bad, bad blogger

I am a bad blogger. There, I said it.

Honestly though - I think of blogs in my head all the time. They never quite migrate to the computer. Take, for example:

The time I was driving home from work and saw a woman driving a car with two toddlers bouncing freely in the back seat. No carseats, no safety belts. I was FURIOUS. Around that same time, I happened to pass another car where the driver was smoking, with the windows up, with a child in the back seat. Again, it made me FURIOUS. I composed and recomposed a seething blog post in my head, questioning the audacity of "some people".

Then there was the time I decided to accept a new job offer, which is such a sweet, sweet deal that I feel like the rug is going to be pulled out from me at any second. Seriously. Living. The. Dream.

And......we're still working on the house. There's always a story or two tucked in there--the projects are neverending. Today for example, I spent seven hours prepping, staining and topcoating our staircase. Then, I painted our front door charcoal while pondering landscape schemes, wishing our landscape architect would hurry up and show us the designs already.

Then there was the time Northwest Airlines lost my luggage. Two months of inconvenience later, a measly reimbursement check arrived, short of what I had originally claimed. How nice, NWA. Thankssomuch.

Finally, our little Annika is full of potential blog stories. Last night in the bathtub, for example, she discovered if she puts a cup under water, it makes bubbles and noises. "Toot," she announces to me, before proceeding to do the same maneuver at least 50 more times, giggling away while "tooting". I don't know where she learns these things.

So I'll try to be a little better about downloading my brain blogs. Gotta free up space on the hard drive; doctoral exams are coming up in January :)

pet project

One of my fun non-healthcare-related public relations gigs is doing PR for the If Kings Can Dream project:

When Norwegian toddler Neill C. Olson emigrated with his family to tiny Aneta, N.D. in 1922, no one ever could have dreamed up the events that transpired over his life. Now, 87 years later, his fascinating story of family hardships, the strength of small town support, and a remarkable musical legacy is being captured for a book, CD and musical, to be formally kicked off at Aneta’s Turkey Barbeque, to be held June 20, 2009.

Produced by North Dakota-based Out of Nowhere Productions, the “If Kings Can Dream" project tells Olson’s story and highlights the great contributions made by Norwegian Americans to keep Norse culture alive in the American Midwest. Spearheaded by Olson’s daughter, Pam Morben of Woodbury, Minn., the plans includea future documentary and grand performance for the King of Norway.

“The name of the book, If Kings Can Dream, comes from the theme song of Olson’s 1968 musical of the same name. “It's a song about a king that dreams of a better life for his people, a concept that we all can relate to,” said Morben.

Olson's high school music teacher and mentor in Aneta was Merton Utgaard, who went on to create the International Music Camp. Olson attended Mayville State College and taught music in Litchville, N.D., where he wrote 18 musicals for Litchville High School.

The historic biography, to be produced in both English and Norwegian, will include a narrated CD with Olson’s original songs, performed by his former student, widely-accomplished National Philharmonic Artistic Choral Director Stan Engebretson.

Proceeds from the project are slated in part to support educational opportunities and artistic endeavors.

The fun part, at least for me, is that Neill Olson was my great-uncle. I remember seeing one of his musicals as a very young kid. It's been a pretty incredible family project from the starting block.

is social networking putting the squeeze on professional orgs?

The question which lodged itself in my brain yesterday morning and has been stuck on repeat ever since is this: will social media render traditional professional organizations, ala the Public Relations Society of America, or the American Hospital Association, useless?

I had been thinking about renewing my membership to PRSA, along with the North Dakota Professional Communicators, and decided against both. I get most of my professional development from following a handful of expert bloggers and tweeters via Twitter and my blogger blogfeed. I've found it to be very useful, very "now", and best of all, very free. What's not to love?

So....are professional organizations hopping on the digimedia bandwagon to stay current, or are they going to become fossils of a time gone by? Both, most likely. North Dakota Professional Communiators? Already a fossil. PRSA? There's still hope.

I'm curious to see who will win the "pull". Will professional orgs migrate over to live online in social media containers, or will they incorporate social media within their pre-existing frameworks?

Time will tell. Interesting to think about.

just getting caught up

All this social media business can get rather exhausting. We've got a "snow day", which, for my southern friends, means we're in the midst of a nasty blizzard, so I am playing catch-up on my blog, facebook, linkedin and twitter accounts.

I don't think I like this layout quite as much. Your thoughts?