An Incredible Place Called Nimrod

Every year around this time, family members gather in an incredibly amazing place called Nimrod, Minnesota. Some travel from Las Vegas, Nevada. Some travel from The Cities (that would be Minneapolis and St. Paul, of course). Some travel from Keewatin. Some don’t even have to travel!

Nimrod

Some gather to hunt the White-Tailed Deer.

Scott and his son

Some gather to share a meal. Some gather to share a beverage. Some gather just for a chance to get some hugs and kisses.

Auntie, Bunn, Tamera and Dusty

Even though it’s technically about the hunt, we all know it’s really all about family.

Bunn, Mark, Dusty and some weather guy

This is the place where my father grew up — it’s always been a small town with a great heart and a reputation for rowdy residents. But as a child, I knew that Nimrod was where Grandma lived and as we rounded the corner of the highway that leads into town, we would strain to look ahead and try to be the first one to shout out, “First to see Nimrod!”

I laugh now to think that being the first one to see the city limits sign was a HUGE deal to us kids. Joy!

Nimrod and Grandma’s house (which is now Auntie’s house) is set along the Crow Wing River which is a peaceful, ever-flowing tributary to the Mighty Mississippi. As we played in the water and sat on the shore and canoed and built forts and camps and hollered in the Crow Wing River, memories were stacking up in our hearts and we didn’t even know it.

Several generations of Frames, Hames and Sternbergs have lived out their lives in Nimrod, and a river flows through us as much as it flows under the Nimrod bridge and past Grandma’s house. I guess Mother Goose is just in replay mode this morning…

Wishing I was here today...

Wishing I was here today…

Mother Goose Moments

“We do not remember days, we remember moments.” Cesare Pavese

We have moments stacked upon moments that make up the stuff our lives. Mother Goose has so many moments piled up in her heart and in her memory, it’s difficult sometimes to just pick one. The fun of my stories is the process of picking a moment out of my metaphorical hat and turning it over and over in my hand, looking for just the perfect perspective when the moment turns into a shiny gem of a story.

This morning during my prayers, God spoke to me in a quiet moment. He reminded me that it was twenty years ago today that I surrendered my life to Him. That was a moment worth remembering! On my bony goose knees with tears streaming, I declared that I couldn’t go another day without the help of Jesus. The moment is as clear in my memory as if it happened last night, but I sure couldn’t tell you much about the rest of the day.

There is a moment that I look forward to every autumn and cherish when it happens — the moment when I spot the Sandhill Cranes flying over us, heading for southern climes. Maybe it’s because I’m an amateur naturalist, maybe because I’m a woman, or maybe it’s because I’m a goose, but that moment when first I hear them calling to me from dizzying heights is always the highlight of fall for me. People stop their cars and stare at Mother Goose when the cranes are flying overhead because she’s flapping her wings, pointing up towards heaven and squawking as though the Cubs had just won the World Series.

That moment is always repeated in the early spring, of course, when the cranes are heading back up north.

The moment when we fall in love. The moment when we first see our newborn babies. The moment when we hear the sad news that our precious loved one has passed away. The moments of mothering, the moments of celebration and those of mourning. And all of the moments of traveling — our first airplane ride, our first train ride, our first boat ride. The moment when we see the ocean, the mountains or the Mississippi River for the first time.

Growing up in northern Minnesota, one of our favorite family moments occurred every time we traveled to Grandma’s house in Nimrod! Yes, there’s really a town named Nimrod — you can google it if you’d like… We had to sit in the small car (no SUV’s or minivans in the 60’s) for hours and hours, but finally we would round the last corner of the endless highway and somebody would shout out, “First to see Nimrod!!” In my memory, it’s truly a golden moment.

Take a moment today and count your blessings! Don’t worry about the days, but gather up all the golden moments that you can. Mother Goose will be sorting through her moments and waiting for the cranes to fly over.

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