Thursday, January 16, 2020

Recipes and Reminiscences

Roughly 20 years ago I attended a community leadership retreat with The Blandin Foundation.  I had recently moved to the Ortonville area and didn't know many people.  My roommate was selected for me, and we stayed together for three days at a resort in northern MN.  Those three days were the beginning of a friendship.

JoAn Melchild was a woman who had retired after a life of raising children on her own, working in business, traveling around the country with kids in tow.  She chose a modest retirement along Big Stone Lake to focus on her main passion - painting. Here is a photo of her at the 2010 Meander, which I wrote of in my past life and past blog.



When I moved away from Ortonville I cut most of my ties there.  There were signs (at least I considered them signs at the time) that my leaving was timely.  My old job was becoming even more ridiculous than normal.  Several other friends had moved away.  Someone raided and destroyed my vegetable garden while we were on vacation.  A private mining operation intent on destroying the granite outcrops (the namesake of the county and the lake itself) at the foot of Big Stone Lake was approved by the county board, leaving feelings of broken faith and helplessness within the community.

I've been going through boxes of books recently.  I tend to hoard books, much like a squirrel hoards acorns - find ones I like, hide them away somewhere and forget where I've put them.  I came across a box of cookbooks from the move.  I found this book inside.



JoAn had lent this book to me years ago.  She asked me to take good care of it, and return it when I was finished.  Of course, me being me, I kept it far longer than I should have.  She never mentioned the book again - whether she forgot about it, or was just being polite, I don't know.

I've kept in touch with few folks from my old Ortonville life.  I read occasional updates on the book of faces.  Coincidentally, most of those folks have also moved away.  But for whatever reason, I didn't keep in close contact with JoAn.  I heard of her passing several years ago. I didn't make it to her funeral.

Sorry, JoAn.  I should have kept in touch.  I should have returned the cookbook.  But I will treasure it and your friendship always.



2 comments:

  1. I didnt know that your garden was raided???

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yeah, it left a bitter taste in my mouth just before leaving. Kinda nature's way of telling us 'you don't belong here.'

      Delete