Surveying the Empty Nest

Age 3, the whole wide world and South Shore Park ahead.

I dropped my youngest child off at college this weekend. It was strange and exciting for both of us.

We drove out to La Crosse the day before to spend the night at my brother's house to make the move into the dorm the next morning a little easier. The back of the car was mostly filled with Quinn's new bike that we got her as a graduation present, which we thought might give her a little more freedom to travel in her new town. Aside from the bike, she packed light for such a move: Three IKEA bags filled with bedding, clothes, and everything else. Plus a laundry basket, and big batch of cookies she'd baked to share with her roommate and others on her floor.

We brought the dog, partially because the dog doesn't like to be apart from me, and partially because she would be good company on the drive home. We set up Domino's bed on the sideways front wheel of the bike in the back where she settled in and could see us both and look out the window. The idea of driving Quinn someplace hours away and leaving her there was incredibly weird. I needed to return with someone, so Domino got the job.

My brother, Barrett, teaches at La Crosse, and lives within easy biking distance from the campus. I think it's great that Quinn chose a school that's away from home, but still near family. It's a pretty area, and UWL is incredibly thoughtful and organized. Quinn signed up for more credits than is probably wise, but compared to the IB course-load she recently completed at Rufus King High School, she thought it looked doable, particularly since the classes meet on such a loose schedule compared to what she's used to. I told her to drop something if it gets to be too much, but I think for at least the first semester she can probably handle it.

Move-in was on Saturday morning, so Barrett was free to come with us and help unload the car. We drove behind him as he led the way by bike. Quinn was reassured by how much less traffic there was to navigate compared to the bike rides we've been doing to the farmers market at home. 

Before checking in, we needed to replace Quinn's student ID already. She thinks she may have lost it at orientation back in June. I found this alarming, but Quinn was unfazed. She said she lost her high school ID at least once a year and replacements are no problem. Sure enough, the student office was able to print her up a new one in a matter of minutes. 

From there, we decided to pick up her books since the bookstore was in the same building. I cannot believe how much easier things are compared to when I was in school (before laptops and the internet and I had to use a card catalog at the library and do my papers on a typewriter or in the computer lab... We may as well lump all of my experience in with playing hoop-and-stick at this point). Quinn swiped her ID, immediately got a printout of all the books she needed and where to find them (and if the super easy system was too hard there were at least half a dozen volunteers standing by to help), and when we took the pile of books to the checkout, they swiped her card again and that was it. The texts are rented and far more affordable than buying all the books used to be. (My oldest said at her school the whole process is even easier, because they scan your card and then collect the books for you to take to checkout. But I liked wandering around with Quinn to find the books.)

With books and ID in hand, we went to unload the car. The dorm is in a convenient spot, and Quinn's room was only a few doors down from the entrance. Unloading was easy. The roommate was very nice (and also a sophomore, which Quinn appreciates because it's like having a personal guide to how things work).

I left a note and a little present on her desk that I told Quinn was for later. (It was a mini Boggle game that I added a key chain to, and she figured out what it was the moment she picked up the wrapped package and heard that distinctive rattle.)

Barrett declared Quinn's bike lock insufficient for the amount of bike theft that unfortunately happens on campus, so he directed us to his favorite bike shop (with a sweet pit bull named Wilma in the sunny window) and we picked up something harder to cut. Fingers crossed. I've experienced stolen bikes a few times and I don't want Quinn to go through that. But honestly, as far as crime goes, if that's the worst that happens life is good.

After dropping everything off, we located the different buildings Quinn's classes are in. The biology lecture room turned out to be directly across the hall from Barrett's lab where he has key-card access, which is why it was one of the few buildings we could actually enter on a holiday weekend. We went from there to the student union to grab some lunch to eat outside in the beautiful weather.

Then we took Quinn back to her dorm, I hugged her, and as I watched her from the the parking lot she turned to wave every few steps until she disappeared inside.

I said goodbye to my brother, and told him how much it means to me that he's nearby if Quinn needs something. Then I called Quinn from inside the car because I missed her already, and to ask if a CD I had planned to listen to had accidentally made it into her bags. (It hadn't.) I took a deep breath, and gave the dog a pat in the seat next to me.

It was hard to drive away. 

I think the longest I've ever been apart from Quinn would be about two weeks. Walking past her empty room at home is startling, but I know it will become normal. The first few days of walking past Aden's room each time she leaves for school again is still a hard adjustment. Ian drove her back up to UW Stout the day after I came back from La Crosse. I can't believe there are no kids in the house. I like having them home.

Although I will admit, over the end of the summer break, it was like my kids were trying to make this transition to not having them around easier for us. The house was a wreck. I love Aden's creativity, but the number of projects in process on all the available surfaces was crazy. Quinn and I pulled out a card table for playing Boggle because everyplace else was too cluttered to use, including the table on the deck. We still have not retrieved all the dirty dishes from various rooms of the house, and we are still digging out the kitchen. There is a large bowl of oil the kids were saving for something that I don't know how to get rid of. Aden lost one of her hissing roaches before she left. (That will be a fun surprise if it turns up.) 

Quinn at least did a great job cleaning and organizing her room before she moved out. I had honestly forgotten she had a rug. At least when I walk by her door I feel a bit of delight about the state of the room to balance out the pang of pain that she's not in it.

It helps that Mona is still around. I'm sure we won't see her as often now that her siblings aren't here to hang out with, but she's nice to have along for errands when she's free. Maybe I can convince her to come with me to a movie. And having a baby-sized dog is comforting.

So far this empty nest thing is strange. It's quiet, and my schedule feels oddly empty even though I always have a lot to do. It's hard to adjust to the fact that this is the new way it's going to be. Not just some weekend where the kids are away, but the new baseline for normal.

It's not bad, and in some ways just a return to an old forgotten normal. We're back to me and Ian again. It's been a long time since we planned things for just the two of us. We've spent decades specializing in a divide and conquer approach to parenting, where between the two of us we could handle everything. He's always been in charge of dentist appointments, I do the doctor. He does the laundry and the dishes, I handle the food and clutter. He does yard stuff, I do holiday things. Between the two of us there has always been someone to open the store while the other handles errands and we'd tag team among the many shifting responsibilities that come with raising kids.

But now the kids are out of the daily equation, and it's hard to remember what we did before they came into our lives. It will be fun to rediscover a new/old rhythm. It will be nice to do things like eat out and go places that are simpler for two people instead of five. I suppose we're getting a well-earned break. 

We're in the process of rethinking the house. There is a renovation plan in the works to concentrate our lives on the first floor. My home shop will move to my work building (since the point of having a home shop was to accommodate balancing violin making and caring for kids and that's not relevant now), and that former shop space will become our bedroom. We're turning a small room we've used as a guest space into a bathroom with an accessible shower. The current first floor bathroom will become a laundry room. The entire upstairs will be set up for guests and kids returning on breaks. My problems last year with my knees gave me insight as to what elements of our house will become difficult as we age, so addressing much of that now before issues arise seems smart. Living on one floor also will make the house feel less empty and more manageable.

In anticipation of the renovation, we've started moving things around and getting rid of stuff. Gone are the outgrown bikes and the tiny tennis rackets. The old drill with the dead batteries we can let go of. Paint cans from past room makeovers will be going to the dump. The sand toys should be in the hands of kids again, not in a bucket in our basement. 

The cleaning and reorganizing are good activities that Ian and I can do together as we reshape how we move through our days now. It is fun being just a couple again, (if you don't count the dog at my heels). It's odd cooking for only two, but a lot less pressure to cook at all. Not being tethered to our children's daily schedules frees up ours. We are already planning trips to the cottage, because why even run your own business if you can't choose your days off once in a while? 

With the pockets of unexpected free time that come with not doing as many chores on a relentless loop, I am teaching myself piano, which is meditative and a good distraction from the fact that I have no idea what any of my kids are doing and I'm not used to that. It's hard to unlearn that kind of constant monitoring after decades.

It's wild that Ian and I fell in love in college, made people, and after so many years where the center of all our decision making has been based around our children, that that whole chapter is finished. We raised three children. Their childhoods are over. There are still things to manage for them, such as orthodontist appointments and walking them through filing tax returns, etc. But what an astonishing thing to step back and declare that job essentially done. I think we did okay. I hope we did enough. All of our children are compassionate, curious, and interesting people, and I know the world is better for having them in it. 

Back in June, Quinn and I did a similar drive to La Crosse to the one this past weekend. My daughter and dog and I went out to stay at Barrett's for freshman orientation at UWL, where Quinn signed up for classes, got an (apparently short-lived) ID, and toured the campus. It's just over three hours by car from Milwaukee to La Crosse, and Quinn read to me for most of it. 

Light From Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki had been on my to-read pile for a some time, primarily because it had a female luthier character in it, and had been recommended to me by several people for that reason. It's an unlikely melding of genres that includes demons from hell contracting for souls, plus space ships, but also lutherie, violin performance, donuts, and the experience of a trans-woman character. We didn't finish the book on that trip, but we read a little more of it to each other at the cottage, and were determined to finish it on this recent trip. We didn't want to finish it without each other. We got very close on the actual drive, to the point where Quinn even offered to keep reading to me as we walked the dog around the neighborhood before actually approaching her uncle's house, but Barrett happily came bursting out to greet us and we set the book down. 

We went out to dinner and taught Quinn's uncle, aunt, and cousin how to play Wavelength (our latest fun family game) while we waited for our food. We had a great meal, headed back to the house where we helped tune a couple of unusual instruments, and then another walk with the dog. A lovely evening all around, but Quinn and I were also anxious to finally finish our book, and when we said our good nights to everyone and she was settled onto her bed in the guest space, I pulled up a rocking chair and read her the last couple of chapters.

Somehow for me that was the most fitting thing we could have done on this milestone weekend. Yes, it was good to see her dorm and meet her roommate and have lunch on campus together and share a tearful hug goodbye. But to be able to sit near Quinn while she lay in bed listening to my voice, engrossed in a story I was reading, felt full circle. 

I loved reading to my kids. When the books had pictures they would gather close on one of their beds and follow along. When we switched to chapter books, I used to read from the floor in the hallway between the rooms they occupied. We've read many books aloud in the car on road trips. I loved having Quinn read to me. I loved getting to read to her one last time before she was on her own.

When Quinn was three, her dad left for his second deployment to Iraq. Aden and Mona had school, but Quinn didn't yet and was disappointed. I took her shopping for her own school supplies and we set up a desk at the violin store for her to do "school work" while I repaired instruments. We referred to that setup as the "School of One" and Quinn had lots of papers and coloring supplies and she did a lot of map puzzles. To transfer any of those supplies back and forth from home she had a purple backpack.

 

She took that same backpack to college this past weekend. 

  

She's literally carrying her student history with her into this new phase of her education. It's been such an honor to watch her grow up. I hope she has what she needs. 

Moldfest!

 

That's right: Moldfest! 

I know it sounds to the uninitiated like an event that might go along with Mildew-mania or Radon-a-rama, but no, it was the second annual Mold-A-Rama/Mold-A-Matic enthusiasts gathering in Berwyn Illinois where fans of the fun waxy figures can meet and share and trade to help fill out one another's collections. 

We only happened to learn about the existence of the event a little over a week before it took place on Saturday, Aug 9th. I've been struggling to get our machine working after years of neglect, and I finally discovered a Facebook group where collectors meet, and asked for help. A couple of very nice people who own private machines themselves offered advice and answered questions. One of them asked if we were planning to come to Moldfest. Who knew?! We rearranged our vacation plans to include a stop at Moldfest on our way to Michigan, and we loved it.

To have things to possibly trade at Moldfest, we took a trip to the Milwaukee County Zoo, since they had a couple of new figures there anyway that we wanted. 

Our zoo is also in the process of closing its Small Mammals building, which is a shame because it's always been our favorite. It's the only place we've ever seen with a bat mold, so we wanted a couple of extras. Sadly the machine was not prepared to make a few in rapid succession and they devolved! (Which is simply amusing to display, so we're fine with it.)

 

 

The completely new figure from our zoo was the flamingos, and the stegosaurus, penguin, rhino and hippo are repeats in new colors.

 

In general, we've lapsed in our Mold-A-Rama hunting since the few places left we know of that we want to collect from are a bit far. Oklahoma City Zoo, for example, could be an easy weekend trip if not for the dog, and a trip there in summer sounds really hot. Maybe we'll figure it out for spring break?

In preparation for Moldfest we decided to literally dust off our collection of over 200 figures on our mantle and see what we have from where already. 

 

In doing so, we discovered that black Sharpie can fade completely away on that material. We mark the dates and places of where we obtain our Mold-a-Ramas on the bottoms of each figure in either silver or black depending on the color. Silver lasted, black did not. So Quinn went back through my blog posts to determine missing information to remark figures that needed it in silver.  

She also pointed out that I have not been good at documenting any acquisitions since Covid, so I'm going to take a moment now to catch up!

One of the challenges of collecting Mold-A-Ramas is that they come and go from certain locations. Brookfield Zoo is always reliable. But apparently the couple we picked up from The Dells we were smart to get when we did because they are gone again. Driving my oldest daughter back and forth to UW Stout includes passing The Dells, so in April of 2022 after visiting her for Easter on campus, the rest of us stopped at the Kalahari resort/water park to grab this elephant and giraffe.

 

In June of 2022 Mona and I visited our own zoo again to pick up this blue eagle, green otter, and silver seahorse. I don't know why our zoo did the seahorse, but it's my favorite so I'm glad! 

For Mona's birthday in 2022 we spent the day at MOSI in Chicago to visit an official Mold-A-Rama show! I intended to write a post about it, because it was great to see Mold-A-Rama history on display. Unfortunately I had a computer disaster and lost a ton of photos from that year. (Which included such memories as when we first met and adopted our dog, Domino, so I'm still sad about that.) A Mold-A-Rama show post with no photos didn't seem worth doing so it never happened.

At that event we picked up a white angel (which was finally explained to us as being an ornament, so I am not quite as irritated that it doesn't stand up well), green Christmas tree, green monorail (which is odd and always looks like a caterpillar to me at first glance), yellow chicks, blue ships, red Santa, and silver robot.

 

In June of this year, Quinn and I were in Detroit to spend time with my mom to help her recover from surgery, and we had the chance to finally visit Third Man Records at that location. It's ridiculous that we already had the Third Man figure (of one of Jack White's guitars) from Nashville, and didn't have the one from Detroit considering how often we're there. The Detroit Third Man machine makes a yellow truck.

 

Okay, back to Moldfest!

 

What a delight to be among other people with the same goofy obsession. Many people seem confused as to why collecting Mold-A-Ramas is appealing, but we didn't have to explain it to anyone that day in Berwyn. I even got to meet a woman in person from Tennessee that we sent figures to years ago, including a messed up corythosaurus (she likes the goof-ups) from our own machine, to help fill out her collection. Julie's long since surpassed us with over 600 unique figures, and I love knowing things we sent her are in that display.

Admission included a specially marked "Moldfest 2025" figure (choice of non-waving gorilla or piggy bank) and a BBQ buffet lunch. Quinn and I picked up t-shirts, a Moldfest T-Rex, and although there were some figures we didn't have that were available for sale or trade from other collectors, the fun for us is really in getting them ourselves as part of a family travel adventure.

The few figures we brought from our zoo weren't of interest to the kind of hardcore collectors (over 100 and from ten states!) that were in attendance at Moldfest, but we decided they fit in well with the things on the mantle at the cottage where we were ultimately headed.

A couple of days before we went to Moldfest, we were able to connect with a nice guy at a local hydraulic repair business who seemed intrigued by our machine. He took parts of it away to tinker with and use as a teaching tool for an apprentice, and the goal is to have the whole thing working again by spring. If we couldn't find someone in our area, we were prepared to drive our machine for a total rehab down in Florida, but with luck we won't have to do that. On the brief occasions where we've gotten it to work well enough for people use outside our store, it's been such a delight. At this point I just want the machine to be reliable enough that we can put it out on nice weekends, and we want to proceed with getting our own mold ideas made.

 

Aden has been playing with designs for a violin figure. It would be nice if the mold could include a bow, but that may be too complicated. We were able to take a 3D printed prototype to Moldfest where we got advice about how different parts need to be angled to work correctly, and now Aden's starting over with a fresh design that ticks more of the boxes we need before we can approach a mold maker.

 

It would be exciting to actually offer up a violin mold! If it works, we may create a Domino mold next. Maybe a little figure of her perched in her dog bed the way she hangs out in the window. Lots of possibilities, many of which I'm sure would be a hit at a future Moldfest. We'll let you know when we reach that step!

Who's a good little mold model? Yes you are!

 

What Games Say

One of the things I will deeply miss when Quinn leaves for college at the end of August is our regular evening games. 

It's not every night, but it's almost any night I ask. The game the two of us play most often is Boggle. Sometimes we do Scrabble, or Cribbage. Other favorites when there are more players around are Settlers of Catan, Carcassonne, Concept, Code Names, Just One, Spite and Malice, and Point Salad.

Much of the entertainment for me and Quinn when we play Boggle is adding to our word card. Nearly every round we spot something that sounds like it could be a word, and we check online at the end of the game. Some are easy to remember for no apparent reason, like DAP (which is a form of dip fishing), and others we absolutely never remember if they are allowed or not. We check everything against the online Scrabble dictionary, and after looking up the same few words over and over we started making lists on a card. One side of the card is legal words (like PAC, SLOE, and EFT) and the other side are things we always want to be words that are not (like POC, LIM, and HAR). 

We laugh a lot, and we discover many new things during Boggle. Quinn recently started learning all the variations on the spellings of letters of the Hebrew alphabet, which is a treasure trove of short words that the game allows (like BETH, TAW, and MEM). We know many forms of currency around the world thanks to Boggle.

Far and away the most interesting things I've learned while playing games with my kids over the years, is simply seeing how their minds work, and how their thought processes differ (or don't) from my own. 

The most vivid example of this in my memory was when Ian and I taught the kids how to play Monopoly at the family cottage. They were young, and the days are long up north and perfect for sprawling kinds of activities. We thought Monopoly was the kind of thing they should experience at least once, but we warned them up front that it was a mean sort of game. We didn't expect them to like it, but it's referenced enough in the culture at large that we thought they should try it.

We proceeded to play the weirdest game of Monopoly I've every experienced, because nobody got a monopoly anywhere on the board, so it became rent controlled. There were no houses or hotels to spike prices. My kids wanted to own collections of assorted property colors and each have their own railroad, etc., so everyone continued to affordably circle the board until we'd passed Go enough to break the bank and we had to stop. It was fascinating and rather heartening.

Anyway, that game gave me a glimpse into my children's possible relationships to money. Quinn likes rules. She had no interest in bending any during the game. If I could not pay rent on one of her properties, that was too bad. Aden, on the other hand, could not abide anyone suffering, so she would slip me money in order to pay rent to Quinn and expect nothing in return. Mona could not tell the difference between $200 and $200,000. Her approach to money in the game was pure chaos. The whole thing made me laugh because I told them when I am old if I have to rely on the three of them, Quinn should be in charge of my bills, Aden should decide when to pull my plug, and Mona will keep things interesting but should be in charge of nothing. Those assessments have shifted a bit as my children have become adults, but some of it's still apt.

The latest game we've been playing is called So Clover (which I think is supposed to sound like "So clever"). Each person gets a small board in the shape of a four-leaf clover, and you arrange four cards on it into a square. Each side of the square has two words and you have to write a word above each pair that will relate to them or connect them in some way. Once you've completed your board, you mix up the cards, add a decoy card, and then hand it all over to the other players who have to see if they can reassemble the board the way you had it.

To do this, you have to have a sense of how that person thinks. It's a little like Code Names, which changes depending on who your partner is and you have to rely on your shared knowledge to create meaningful clues. My kids know, for instance, that coming up with references to video games will not spark anything for me at all. Or if I'm playing with Aden I can reference Star Trek, but with Quinn that would get us nowhere.

The other night we did a round of So Clover that I found fascinating. Maybe because the two of us play so many word games together, Quinn knew intuitively how all of my clues worked. For example, I connected the pair of words "Hammer" and "Dreams" with "Nails." She kept insisting (correctly by my way of thinking) that a hammer would dream of nails. Mona and Aden kept taking the card back off and telling her that was insane. What kind of maniac would see Hammer and Dreams and write Nails? It was taking them so long to solve my board that they eventually agreed to a hint, and I told them to listen to Quinn, who put it together in seconds.

Aden, who I usually think I understand rather well, had an approach to this game I could not fathom. She didn't try to connect pairs of words, she simply found a clue that applied to each one independently. So for the words "Raft" and "Spicy" she put "Water." Her thinking was you need water for a raft, and you also drink water when eating spicy foods. My brain could compute almost none of her clues, but Mona seemed to get them. 

Like the long ago game of Monopoly, Quinn was logical, Aden was creative, and Mona was unpredictable. It made for a very entertaining game night.

I love seeing different people's strengths and priorities while playing games. In Settlers of Catan, Mona will always go for The Longest Road card. She doesn't even care if she wins, as long as she gets and retains that card as a point of pride. Quinn likes things that line up neatly. Aden will often take a purely sentimental tack and finagle it into a win. If it's a game that centers on pure strategy and Ian's playing, the rest of us seldom have a chance.

It's also enlightening to realize what gaps in experience others have that you make assumptions about. When I was growing up, my family and my Uncle Joe's family used to celebrate New Year's Eve together, and there was a different theme every time. One year we played a homemade version of Wheel of Fortune, and in addition to the kind of confusion only my dad could bring to any game, my mom and her brother were shocked to discover that none of their children knew the name of our great-grandmother. We uncovered all the letters of her name and still couldn't solve the puzzle. It had never occurred to my mom or uncle that we didn't know the name of their beloved grandmother. (But then, I also remember when someone asked my grandfather what his grandparents' names were, and he just said, "Grandma and Grandpa." He honestly didn't know.)

Word games always make my mom feel self-conscious, even though Quinn and I assure her the number of times the words POO and PEE show up in Boggle is embarrassing and she's perfectly capable of finding those, but she still won't play with us. She'll only play number based games involving cards or tiles.

Any game where I might need graph paper makes me glaze over, and makes me think of an episode of Gravity Falls where Dipper tries to explain how to play "Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons" and his sister whines, "This is like Homework: The Game!"  

My dad seldom went a week without doing a crossword puzzle. I have one in ink on my refrigerator that he didn't quite complete. I found it among his papers after he died. I tried to make him a crossword puzzle once when I was in second grade, because he loved them so much and I wanted to make him happy. I had zero idea of how they worked, though, and he had to hand it back to me explaining that the clues had to lead to words that overlapped properly, not the random mess I had made. He was very sweet about it. 

Crosswords summed up a lot about my dad. He liked clever use of language, and knowledge of both past and current events. It was an activity both solitary and neat and came in a newspaper. I used to snuggle up to him on the couch or in bed and try to help, but I was useless. I remember once the two of us puzzling over a clue about Newton, and both of us assumed it had to do with Sir Isaac Newton, but as other words came together, my dad exclaimed it was Wayne. Wayne Newton. Wayne seemed like a significant step down, history-wise, and we really laughed.

I find Sudoku puzzles relaxing. I have them stashed in glove compartments and in gig bags and on shelves and tables around the house. If they really help stave off dementia, I should be in good shape for a while.

Online I like to do the Wordle, Connections, the Mini, and Strands. Quinn and I regularly compare notes on how we did with those Times puzzles at the end of the day. We commiserate over how the Mini resets on a different schedule than the other games. The things I find easy in Connections are usually the things Quinn found hard, and vice versa. Solitary games like these feel like private interaction between me and the person who designed the puzzle. There's usually at least one category in the Connections where I scoff a bit, and feel like the game maker somehow knows and were maybe going for that reaction.

The dog just likes fetch/keep-away, and a little bit of wrestling. She has board-game-blindness and will happily tromp over whatever my kids and I are trying to play to seek affection.

I've been trying to remember what games Ian and I used to play before we had kids and everything shifted to include them. I don't know if when it's just us again what will feel right. I have such a specific rhythm of playing Boggle with Quinn that I don't know if I want to do it without her. It may become something I wait to do at holidays when she's in town.

Is it odd that when picturing the imminent empty nest that I imagine missing Boggle nights the most? Probably not, when I remember that playing games says very little about the actual games. They are about connection and time and humor and love. Losing that puzzle piece from our daily home life will be rough.

 

 

Dear Dad (2025)

Dear Dad,

You've been gone almost ten years. 

That is shocking to me, but I got to see my nephew last week, and considering he was only three months old the one time you got to meet him and he just finished fourth grade, I suppose it shouldn't be. 

Quinn, who was eight when you died, is graduating from high school on Tuesday. Mom will be here for that, but at the moment she's in LaCrosse with both Arno and Barrett. We didn't realize until Arno stepped into our kitchen that he hadn't seen it since before the remodel in 2016. He feels so present in my general existence that I missed he was absent from my home for so long.

We were trying to remember the last time our original family was all together in one spot, and worried it might not have been since we were all gathered around your hospital bed in the library. But I checked my old photos and remembered a few times prior to the pandemic years that we managed it. The pandemic messed with many things, including most people's sense of personal history and time. 

One of the things I really hoped might be changed for the better after losing you was a greater sense of urgency among family to make more time to be together. I think we feel that, but it hasn't altered the realities of how our lives function. We're still tethered by responsibilities that are anchored by dates and places that keep us apart. I watch my children, who are all adults now, casually hanging out in our home this summer, and wonder how rare that will become for them in the future. Maybe the logistics of their lives will overlap better than has happened with me and my siblings.

There have been updates to our house both big and small I wish I could show you. Last year we had a bunch of landscaping done, including new walls for the gardens in front and toward the back. We have a new front door that works much better, and new windows in the front room that actually open. I finally put something at the end of the banister in the living room where it looked like a light probably once existed and has just been a goofy looking hole for decades. I found a glass garden orb to put there, and it has solar powered lights inside that turn on in the evening, so it's pretty and also illuminates the stairs a bit at night. 

The big plans in the near future involve renovating the first floor so Ian and I in our new empty-nest lives come fall can live on one level. The nook room you used to stay in will become a bathroom with a walk-in shower, the little bathroom will be a laundry room, and my home shop will move upstairs to Aden and Mona's room while the shop becomes our bedroom. The upstairs will be shop space, Quinn's room (eventually an office and library), and a proper guest room. I think it's a good plan, but I vacillate about altering the house. Although I've never regretted updating the kitchen or redoing the deck, so I'm sure I won't look back and miss the current layout. (Now that I'm writing this, I'm wondering if maybe we should turn the teaching studio in the store into my building shop instead? We don't have as many teachers back there at this point, and it could be easier so consolidate more of the woodworking there. Not sure.)

Mom is good. She's doing such beautiful work, I'm so sorry you can't see it. She's doing a series of animals from India, and she made reproductions of her drawing of a goat that I'm getting framed. (Who knew how spoiled we were by excellent free framing growing up? I miss that!) She's got two interesting book clubs full of intelligent, thoughtful people, and her social life continues to be way more active than mine, but maybe with the free time that comes from having kids out of the house Ian and I will do more with friends. She was in India earlier this year, and if we're lucky and the mandolin orchestra goes to Italy in the fall, I'm planning to bring her along for that. She had the first part of her cataract surgery recently, and next month she has a heart procedure that I will be with her for. She's had a run of rude doctors, but we're hoping the surgeon is better at repairing leaky heart valves than he is at reassuring patients. If it works, Mom should be less fatigued, but honestly for 82 she's accomplishing a lot more than many people at any age. 

All five of your grandchildren would make you proud. Ellora loves Berkeley, and is currently studying abroad in Berlin. Little Rivyn is ten! His interests shift around, but seem to circle back regularly to trains and swords and folklore. Apparently right now he's into geography and flags, so maybe he and Quinn can bond over that sometime.

Aden finished her senior year at UW Stout, but she's doing a fifth year to take advantage of more of the great art courses they offer. Her game "Tubular" won the prize for best game-play at the SGX event this year. Even Mom enjoyed playing it at the senior show the next night. I'm glad Aden's had a positive college experience and gets to extend it a bit longer. She's home for summer. If she moves back to Milwaukee after college we've offered her the back upstairs apartment at the store building. I think it would be fun for her and Mona to live across the hall from each other, but there's no way to know yet where she'll wind up and what opportunities will be out there. 

Mona seems to be really enjoying her life right now. She's very private, so I can't tell you much, but I do know she likes having her own space, her Etsy shop is doing fine, and she's putting in regular hours at the tattoo parlor. Her mentor genuinely appreciates her talent. He told me they would never consider offering instruction about her art, because it's exceptional. They only guide her in understanding the specifics of tattooing. The list of people waiting for her to give them a tattoo when she's ready is getting long. She takes advantage of living near the lake by visiting the park often, and she walks over to the house most evenings. I worry whom she'll hang out with once Quinn leaves in the fall, but otherwise I think she's in a good place.

Quinn requested meatloaf and mashed potatoes for graduation night dinner, so I need to get to the store tomorrow. She's so smart, Dad. And so dear. We've been playing more Scrabble lately, and I'm sure you'd find it cheating with how often we look things up as we go, but we learn so many new words playing games together. Today's game yielded: SEY, LI, and REN. She got into nearly all the colleges she applied to, but she was wait-listed for U of Michigan (which was her first choice), and the only rejection she got was from UW Madison (her second choice) and that really surprised me. Anyway, she's enrolled for fall at UW LaCrosse, which I think will be good. She may need to transfer to another school when she figures out specifically what she wants to study, but for at least the first couple of years I think it could be just right. I love that she'll have family right there, and Barrett on campus. I communicated with the person in charge of gender inclusive housing, and I am reassured that the school will be a supportive environment. Quinn's good at everything and loves to learn, so I can't wait to see what she'll do. All of her teachers at her last conference gave her glowing reviews, particularly in Spanish, Psychology, English, and Economics/Social Studies. Her favorite class was Costume Design/Sewing. (She hopes to make some clothes this summer from our retired Indian table cloths.) She's still a geography wiz (especially when it comes to playing Geo-Guesser), and we got our VR machine working again and she's back to playing Beat Saber. She has her last piano lesson this week. I plan to go along so I can actually hear her play. At home she uses the keyboard with earbuds, so I never get to hear how she's doing. I'm glad she can play, but I'm not sure what it means to her. She asked for the lessons, so it's not like we made her play, but I'm glad she has a musical foundation should she be inspired to do something with it.

Ian continues to enjoy not being in the Army. He's dedicated more energy into the passenger rail and Linux groups. They're lucky to have him. I'm hoping once we get past the big renovation work and are settled into a routine without kids in the house that maybe we can travel more. Even just some nice day trips where we find a dog friendly hotel for the night and explore somewhere new would be fun. Ian misses his mom. It's weird since we sold her house last year that there's no reason for Portland to be a necessary destination anymore. I know the same will be true one day of Pleasant Ridge, but I honestly can't let my mind go there for long because I start to feel physically upset.

Arno is back to a job description I don't know, but he seems to be focused on developing an interactive system for parents to get mental health guidance in real time for their kids. He's also had me do typing tests as part of a research project that I did not benefit from. His life continues to be a whirlwind of grant proposals and trips to India and everywhere, mixed with a lot of work, unexpected home issues (I've lost track of how many times their floors have been repaired), and caring for Pepper. I wish you could see how beautiful their apartment is now. The expansion into the space next door has been a big success.

Barrett was just here for a book signing! We also got to tag along with him to a morning TV show and a bug talk at the Wehr Nature Center the same day. You would have loved the event at Boswell. He gave a great talk, and then signed books with original drawings of insects for people. It's amazing to watch him interact with his son and to see him light up with enthusiasm talking to everyone he meets. I think my favorite line of his at the nature center was when he posed a question, and Arno offered up a possible answer, and Barrett responded with something like, "Not only do you look good, but you know your stuff!" I hope Quinn gets to take a class from him.

At Boswell they asked how my writing was going, and I admitted I was stalled, but hopeful. I have not tackled the edits I paid to have done last year on my novel because as dumb as it sounds, I can't deal with following them in the Google-doc form everyone else seems to like. I have tried repeatedly to have the comments open on one side of my screen and my manuscript open on the other for the rewrite, and it's impossible. So I finally just printed out the whole thing and will copy the edits by hand so I have something physical to refer to, and finally do some writing again. I find it insane that it only takes me a couple of months to write a draft of a book, but years to make something happen with it. I was on the verge of giving up because maybe there was no point in being stressed out over something no one is asking for. But then I got an email from a lovely violin scholar who reminds me very much of you in that the word "gentleman" aptly applies, and he wanted to let me know how much he enjoyed my last book and was looking forward to reading more. So I will keep going. I'd also really like to dive into the next repair guide, but I'd rather do that while in the next waiting phase after editing the novel, so that keeps getting pushed aside.

There is a story about me and my violin store coming out in Milwaukee Magazine next month! I asked the bookstore to reserve two copies for me, and in my heart one of them is really for you. When I think how much you loved to clip articles, I ache a little every time I'm in one and you don't get to see it. I imagine how doubly fun for you it would be to clip an article that was also about someone you love. When Barrett's Insect Epiphany got a huge spread in the local paper, I cut the article out and taped the date along the edge they way you used to.

I wasn't feeling photogenic when the magazine came to take pictures, so I brought along Domino, because she's always cute. Plus she's a legitimate fixture of the store at this point. When we're out, it's not unusual for someone to say, "Hey, that's the violin store dog!" I do love that baby-sized pup. I gave her a bath in the sink this afternoon and now she's super soft.

Store is doing well. My health is better this year compared to last. I try to be good about continuing the exercises I learned in physical therapy last summer so that I won't relapse into not being able to walk again. That was awful, and I don't take being able to move for granted. My next big building project is a pair of violins, one of which is designated for Mom to paint. There's been lots of fun playing with both Festival City and the MMO. I wish at every concert I could see you in the audience.

I need to wrap this up before Father's Day is over. It's been a nice day. I made Ian waffles for breakfast. Quinn and I played Scrabble. I washed the dog and picked up around the house. Ian and I popped over to the store to finish a couple of things. Aden watched an episode of the new season of Taskmaster with us while we ate a dinner Quinn prepared. I walked Domino several times in the nice weather. Mona arrived at the house and helped Quinn make banana bread. I poked at this post a little bit at a time over the course of the whole day, and am finishing up at my workbench.

I have a great life, Dad. Although I often feel conflicted, because the world/our country is coming apart in ways that would have had you feeling justifiably alarmed, but on a personal level I am fortunate enough to be okay. I love my family, we're managing in the moment, but there is so much just beyond our reach that is so terribly wrong that it's hard to grapple with some days. I honestly cannot guess at what things will be like if I go to write you a letter next year. The sheer stupidity of the decisions being made at the highest levels would have you in despair. The cruelty of it all would break your heart. And yet, I can promise you on this day the people you loved most are good. That's something. All I can tell you is I will use the stable ground I am on to help steady others when I can. Because I know that's what you'd want me to do.

I love you. I wish I could hug you.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

Kory

 

Mosaic

 

When we found the location for opening our violin store in 2008, one of the many things I loved about it was the large windows. They are perfect for setting up displays to be seen from the street and sidewalk, and they provide a lovely view from my bench throughout the day. There is so much window space that I felt we could afford to block some with a Rubik's Cube mosaic if I ever built one.

A cube mosaic is simply using the individual squares of color on the front face of a Rubik's Cube as pixels in a larger image. There are programs available online where you can upload a picture into a pixel-generator based on your cube colors, and it will give you image options complete with a breakdown of a dozen cubes at a time for easy assembly. 

Pattern breakdown on my laptop

 

Assembly in the box-frame

Finished image (design by Aden Weisser)

I'm not a speed-cuber, but I'm fast enough at solving individual cube faces that my mosaic of 480 cubes only takes me a few hours to do. I find it relaxing, and the people in the neighborhood seem to enjoy the changing display.

I had been looking at that space in the window and wanting to put a cube mosaic in it for more than fifteen years before I finally just did it. At first as a young business, that seemed like a ridiculous expense to invest in. Even in bulk, speed cubes (which don't have stickers, and look cleaner for use in an art piece) were going to cost money I didn't feel I could justify spending when there were supplies to buy and rent to pay. Plus I wasn't quite sure how to construct a secure frame for it, and to top it off I generally have a lot going on with little free time to spare.

But my schedule has gotten simpler as my children have grown. The last kid in the house even does most of the cooking, so I'm not saddled with shopping for and making dinner nowadays. Last year it hit me that buying a ton of cubes was never going to be a reasonable sounding expense, and I should just do it. I imagined how stupid I would feel on my deathbed wondering why I never did this thing that in the grand scheme wasn't that big an expense at all.

Because why are we here? What are we doing? Life is short and there's lots to try before we go. One of those things I wanted to try was that mosaic, so why wait?

I started by ordering 240 bulk speed cubes. I experimented with a pattern on the living room floor, and the kids and I decided it was too small. As extravagant as owning 240 cubes sounded, we could make better images by doubling that number. Beyond that seemed too unwieldy for the space and harder to make time to switch out with any frequency. 480 it was.

I ordered a second batch of cubes, accidentally got sticker cubes, sent those back, got new speed cubes, but the colors didn't match the first set, so they let me send back the original batch, and I got a new set of cubes from the same factory batch as the set I kept. So that was a lot. And now I feel silly about having an issue with the slight color difference, because as the cubes have been in the window many colors have faded and they don't match each other now anyway. At some point I will have to probably refresh them with paint.

mismatched

 

I've enjoyed coming up with new designs, usually derived from photographing things inside the shop.

The first one I did was of a scroll I had recently carved. I really like how the mosaic images look from across the street. It's fascinating how our brains fill in necessary details.

 

I tend to change the mosaic on average about once a month, depending on how much time I have. There is an ebb and flow to repair work where sometimes there is a break or everything is drying in clamps for a while, and I can just sit while waiting for deliveries or appointments. It's nice to settle in by the window and solve cubes.

 

I've even done holiday themed images, like putting up a picture of my Cell-O-Lantern, or Peeps.

 

Peeps!

The box/frame is a big piece of thin plywood (I didn't want it to be too heavy) with a wood border just deep enough to hold the cubes. It's resting on a dolly with wheels I can lock, and that can also be tipped into a horizontal position if I ever want to lay out all the cubes as if they are on a table. Originally I planned to put some kind of grippy backing in the box to help secure the cubes, but gravity turned out to be enough. The small lean of the box is sufficient to make the cubes stay in place. The dolly also allows me to rotate the box toward me to work on it, and then easily turn it to face the window when the image is done.

Box construction took up all my floor space

Bonus that the dolly wheels are a fun color!

 

It always looks like more off the board

I'm lucky that I like my job very much, and I won't be someone who regrets having spent so much time at it. If I couldn't make a living at what I do, I would find a job that allowed me to do violin work as a hobby. I don't mind being defined by my particular job, because it sums up a great deal of who I am and strive to be. My work is creative and practical, it's about helping others and creating beauty, and I feel connected to both the past and the future keeping a tradition alive in my own corner of the world.

When people ask why there are Rubik's Cubes in my violin store, the answer is because I like them. The store is me. It reflects what I like and who I am, from the violins to the cubes to the sparkle cello to the pride flags to the Mold-A-Ramas to the Escher floor puzzle to the rocks from Lake Michigan to my dog in the window. There are pictures of my kids, my husband by my side, and now there is also a cube mosaic.

I am many things that make a whole. We all are. Life is a mosaic, and together we form something larger than ourselves. I'm grateful every day that each person who can does their small part to keep our lives running. If we're doing our little piece well, it eases someone's burden and brightens the world a tiny bit more. Sometimes that means simply being who we are authentically, and doing the things we like and not putting them off.

I like that doing something that makes me happy can also bring passersby a little joy. 

Peeps 2025

Mona is now a repeat top prize winner at the annual Racine Art Museum's "Peep Art" show! She won "First Peep" along with the recently added "Postcard" prize, where her piece was selected to print on postcards for sale at the museum's gift shop.

 

It's a great piece. Mona's become quite proficient in her creation of flash sheets for her tattoo apprenticeship at Devotion. I love her Peeps Flash Sheet that she entered this year.

 

The details in it are just charming. I'm particularly fond of the cowboy with no way to use that gun.

My entry this year was also 2D, but I don't think it was clear to people what it really was.

I have a display in my shop that holds 480 Rubik's Cubes, and I arrange them into various mosaic designs. I tried out various Peeps images on it, because I wanted a "Puzzled Peep" made of puzzles. I liked the one I chose because as an art piece I found it most appealing. I took a photo of the cube mosaic, and had it printed out on a canvas through a company online in order for it to be something that fit the entry requirements of the Peeps show.

 

The show this year at RAM did not disappoint. It is always amazing to see how clever and creative people can be. The entry that made me really laugh was the homage to the duct taped banana.

There were a lot more glass entries than I remember from years past. I didn't get enough pictures of some of the funnier things, but here's some of what was there:

 

A good Peeps year! We've already got ideas for 2026.

Mona's latest Golden Peep Award!