Places to See | Stavkirk

Posted on October 8, 2015 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

A wonderful local attraction a little off the beaten trail – by that, I mean not exactly your average tourist outing – is the Stavkirke in Rapid City. This Chapel in the Hills is an historic replica of a church in Norway, the Borgund stavkirke in Laerdal, which was built in the 12th century.

The word stavkirke refers to the construction of the building, using staves or pillars made of Douglas fir, the closest possible substitution for the fir trees used by the Norwegians in the 12th century. The church is constructed entirely of wood, except for the iron used in the door knockers and locks. Instead of nails, wooden dowels are used. Some speculate that this is what has allowed churches like the Borgund stavkirk to survive to the modern day – Wooden dowels would give a literal flexibility to the building that might not be had with rigid nails.

Up until a few weeks ago, I had never seen the Stavkirke. I had heard of it and seen pictures, and always had wanted to visit – I wasn’t in the least disappointed. It looked a little like the chapel in Frozen, just smaller. The heavy door knockers and huge locks, the covered walkway around the outside of the church, the vaulting rooftops, and the towering doorways with intricate carving – It all seemed like something straight out of a fairytale.

The visitors’ center has a flyer with a history of the building, including a narrative explaining the use of pagan symbolism in the construction of the church, because of the remnants of mythologies and the deeply-held traditions of pagan religions to which people clung, even after the embracing of Christianity by Norwegians.

The Chapel in the Hills was built in the 1960s according to blueprints supplied by the Norwegian Department of Antiquities, a plan pieced together by Drs. Gregerson and Thompson, and financed by Arndt Dahl, a local banker who was himself a first-generation American of Norwegian heritage.

The church is active during the summer months – Lutheran Vespers happen nightly, weddings are hosted, and countless people worldwide stop to see this relic of our heritage. What an oddity! And what a gem! They have an informative website, too, if you want more information on the Chapel in the Hills.

The girls and I visited while Jess was here, but I went back a few days later over my lunch break – The sky was piercingly blue. I retook a few shots and added a few more. There was a couple from Illinois also there – I heard them talking to the gal managing the visitors’ center – and I struck up a conversation with them. They had gone to college in Champaign, my Illinois hometown! What a small world. Turned out the wife was wearing the same shirt I was wearing, just a different color. She said she got hers from some clothing store – I don’t know brand names, so I didn’t know the store. I had gotten mine from Goodwill. We had a chuckle over that one. It was a fun conversation. And I’m pretty sure they found the Stavkirk well worth seeing, too, in spite of all of the louder, snappier tourist attractions there are to see in the Hills.

Off the beaten path is always a good place to look for the real sights in the Hills.

Surprised by bounty

Posted on October 8, 2015 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

The sentiment this summer among gardeners was dismal. Just when we started thinking this year would be a great year for gardening, a storm whipped up out of nowhere and smashed everything. So we replanted and waited and got hopeful – And just when we started getting optimistic, another stormed whipped up out of nowhere and smashed everything. Again. It was a little discouraging. Who wouldn’t be dismal when their beautiful garden gets crushed by pea-to-golfball-sized hail, knocked down by straight-line winds, flooded out, shriveled in the heat, or burned by an early frost?

But suddenly we’ve been surprised by our garden actually producing vegetables, in spite of the late (third or fourth) planting. I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but Sarah’s boss at Dakota Greens in Custer gave – gave – us upwards of 20 tomato plants, after the first planting was smashed, plus a variety of pepper plants. Such a gesture of generosity really floored me.

Mom dutifully and eagerly planted them, regardless of how late in the season it was, content to have a garden that looked nice even if it didn’t ultimately grow anything. Someone else gave us a tomatillo plant which is now covered with fruit, other people gave us zucchini plants, and Mom replanted green beans.

But what has been delightfully surprising is that not only did the plants that she planted late do well, but many of the plants that had gotten flattened or severely bruised in the hail are doing beautifully! Mom’s square-foot gardening boxes were planted thick with root vegetables, and we’re getting a bumper crop of turnips. I couldn’t help but marvel at the color – Such a rich, pure color. The basil and oregano likewise are plentiful, and many of the squash plants are laden.

What a welcome surprise! We have bags of green beans waiting to be blanched and frozen, lots of turnips, and herbs to freeze in oil. How exciting!

We were out picking a few days ago, and Luna the Cat was darling to watch – He’s a weird cat with some really weird habits and weird quirks, but he is quite the charmer. He is uncannily companionable, although he prefers to not be snuggled, but he loves to be where the activity is. The whole time we picked, he was discovering the garden. He sneaked up on picked zucchini, prowled around in the green beans, got his little paws wet in puddles, and then discovered the leeks. He likes leeks.

Our tomato crop hasn’t been very good, since a late hail storm damaged a lot of the fruit, but the lack in tomatoes is more than made up for in the other bounty. We’re still pondering what we could use as a hail screen next year.

Lesson for the day: Patience and persistence really does pay off sometimes. If Mom hadn’t insisted on replanting the third (or was it the fourth?) time and continuing the cultivate what survived, we wouldn’t be getting anything from the garden this year, except maybe some of the root crops and some squash. But we’ll have a little to put up in the freezer anyway, and plenty to cook fresh. Nothing quite makes a meal like home-grown produce.

September | In Hindsight

Posted on October 8, 2015 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

September was a month I knew I would be glad to leave behind, before it even started. Now, it wasn’t bad, mind you – It was just busy. Way too busy. I was working six days a week through most of September, on one occasion seven days a week, and I knew it would be unsustainable before it had even become unsustainable. Either way, September is over, taking with it the last of my summer jobs, the last of the summer, the last of the tourists, and leaving behind memories of family outings, photography excursions, time spent with my church community, and the first few weeks at a brand-new job in a brand new field.

The scribing is going well – I have to be honest, after a week doing it I was getting worried. The amount to learn was daunting and, as I alluded to, I don’t thrive in bustle and busyness. There was a period of about two weeks where I had one day off, maybe two, since I was still working at the Mercantile. Let’s just say that that isn’t conducive to feeling good about a brand new job. However, as I got more familiar at the clinic, I started to enjoy it – to really enjoy it. There’s so much to learn, which is both a little daunting and a lot exciting. Looking forward to seeing what the next year looks like.

September is the perfect place on the summer calendar, as far as weather is concerned – Great weather for hiking and walks, for exploring and spending time outdoors. I was (and still am!) getting to know my new camera, which I bought right at the beginning of September – It comes with me just about everywhere! Somehow in the craziness of September, I was blessed to have time for garnet hunts, scenic drives, photography, hiking with friends, picking rose hips, going to Little Falls, visiting the Stavkirk, driving Spearfish Canyon, going to the Rock Maze out on Nemo Road, and spending the evening up at Grandma’s watching “Little House on the Prairie.”

I taught my first Sunday school class at church, played preludes for the month of September, AND now have an electric piano. I have to admit, I turned up my nose at having one for a very long time–But not having any piano finally became motivation enough to accept an electric one. I have the best dad–He bought the piano, and I know we’ll be using it a lot in the future for hymn-sings and making music up at Grandma’s! It isn’t a real piano, but it actually sounds amazingly good.

And finally, Jess visited at the end of the month, along with our Uncle Scott. We monopolized his time as much as we were able – I never get the feeling that he minds being monopolized. Although we didn’t have a lot of time off while Jess was here, we made the most of what free time we did have – Already looking forward to seeing her next month, and at Christmas time.

Even in the midst of the busyness, September had lovely moments of family time, adventures, and just plain fun–They were just a little fewer and farther between this month, or a little more meticulously stitched in to the fabric of the month. But it made them all the more appreciated.

Findings | Here and there

Posted on September 30, 2015 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

Had to stop on the way to work to snap a picture of this side road underneath a layer of cloud…Not for the first time, I was awestruck by the views on my way to work. So thankful to be here. God is good.

Sisters

Posted on September 28, 2015 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

Jess was here to visit this past week – We kept her busy, scurrying her around from one adventure to another, relishing having all four of us together again. That may sound sappy to some, but if you grew up as we did in a close-knit homeschooling household, you’ll understand what I mean when I say, “My sisters are my bestest friends. They are all I need.” When you grow up spending all of your waking hours with your family, there is a closeness that is inevitable. And it is hard having one of those siblings 1000 miles away. So glad she got to come to the Hills for a week, short as it was.

On Saturday, the 19th, we took a jaunt over to Little Falls – The girls wanted to swim, which was a firm no for me, but they managed to talk me into getting in up to my knees. I don’t handle cold water very well, so I was whining the whole time about my feet hurting (they did. The water was cold.), but we managed to get a couple of cute pictures on Jess’s phone.

Anna spent most of her time garnet hunting. As I’ve written about once or twice before, garnets are plentiful in the streams here and, while we mostly hunt them in the dry creek beds, we like to hunt them whenever we go to Little or Big Falls. Some good garnets can be found in those places…

Jess, Sarah, and the Dog scrambled around on the rocks – I followed behind slowly, enjoying my time through the lens of a camera, and simply enjoying the presence of all three of my sisters.

God has blessed me with wonderful friends in my sisters. When I was younger, I don’t think I appreciated them nearly enough, but they grow more dear to me with each passing year. They are the lights of my life. Not sure what I’d do without them. While siblings are so close that you know one another’s foibles, quirks, and annoying habits, they also are the friends who have the potential to be the closest friends on earth.

Who else shares the same history, the same upbringing, the same genetics or legal heritage? My youngest sister, Anna, is adopted, but even though she doesn’t share my genes, she shares a heritage by virtue of us being children of the same parents. She participates in the legacy that our parents are building for us.

We’ve all spent all of our childhoods together. We’ve been homeschooled together, we’ve argued together, shared beds, brushed teeth together, owned pets together, accidentally killed pets together, shared silverware, shared secrets, shared deodorant, spent all our best memories together. We’ve shared mishaps, successes, and failures. We share facial expressions, complexions, and quirks. We compare tans in the summer. We fight over snow boots in the winter. We all try to get out of dishes, and then enjoy doing the dishes together.

Who else can boast or blush at the mention of each of those things? Who else can claim the closeness that siblings have? We share a past, a present, and a future. A friend can walk away without a part of you going with them. Your siblings, no matter how rocky the relationship, are always going to be part of who you are.

When God created families, he wasn’t just creating an institution – He was creating companions, opportunities to experience closeness probably only surpassed by a spouse. That’s a pretty special relationship. And I’ve got three of them.

The golden flame

Posted on September 28, 2015 by Laura Lindblom under Uncategorized

Fall has arrived, and with it the burning, brilliant, tingling gold of a thousand thousand birch trees, glinting their leaves into the sun as one might catch light on a mirror and then scatter it.

In Illinois, almost all the trees would turn their colors at once – First one or two small trees, young trees, would change to yellow or orange or red, and then the whole body of the trees would burst into color, flamboyant and showy and with the unmistakable spirit of autumn.

Here, the color comes differently. Most of our trees here are pine – Constant green throughout the year, no matter the season. But slowly, slowly, the birch trees, clustered together in little groves, take on the glow of fall.

Today on the way home from church, Sarah and I dawdled our way through Custer State Park, enjoying Iron Mountain Road and other side roads, and time after time, my breath was swept away by the sheer glory of the birch trees. As we drove through the winding mountain roads, the 4:00 sun filtered through the pines, casting shifting shadows through the pillar trunks. Even in the sun, the pines look dark. But just around a corner or over a hill, the whole landscape would change, suddenly a gold of such intensity the wood itself seemed to be glowing. The white birch trunks reflected the light, glinting paler through the pale fire of the trees.