Leota, MN
(August 23)
By the time we reach Vancouver, BC or the Grand Canyon and have a brief two days to explore the sights, it might seem laughably ironic that we spent four days in southwest Minnesota at the beginning of our trip. I’m realizing that this trip is as much about the people as it is about the places, though, and we won’t regret that leisure time with Aaron’s family.
A last minute change of plans kept us in MN an extra day. We thought that all the Groen aunts were at Aunt Karen’s lakehouse, due to arrive sadly after our departure. So we were on our way to the Black Hills after an indulgent stop at Brummel’s Bakery for a maple bun and scrunch bread (we lunched that day on out-of-this-world Dutch baked goods and a quart of milk. Mmm...) when Aaron talked to Uncle Marv.
As it turned out, all the aunts were back in town and everyone was gathering that night at Aunt Wilhemina’s place (Mr. Groen’s aunt). We obviously couldn’t miss that, so we rearranged our plans and headed to Pipestone National Monument for the day.
[Pipestone, Old Stone Face]
[Pipestone, Old Stone Face detail]After a delightful and restful day walking around this ancient Native American pipestone quarry and planning out the rest of our road trip, we pulled into Aunt Wilhemina’s, surprising everyone with our presence and interrupting a vicious game of Rummikub.
The roster for the evening included Aunt Wilhemina, of course, Uncle Bill and Aunt Joann, Uncle Marv and Aunt Bert, Uncle Cal and Aunt Cheri, Uncle Howard and Aunt Mavis, and Aunt Elaine. It was a precious gift to spend time with them all together, “visiting” in their homeland. I have tremendous respect for their values and way of life.
I spent most of the evening on the couch between Uncle Marv and Uncle Howard. Uncle Marv renowned for his theory of “Preventative Eating:” since you don’t know for sure when you’ll have a chance to eat again, might as well eat all you can now. Although he is always first to the table and brings a hearty appetite, he is tall and thin as a rail, much like my husband. He regaled me with stories about growing of growing up post-Depression, hauling milk, and the auger mechanism of Dutch windmills.
Uncle Howard, meanwhile, amused us with his tale of the time he was given the wrong hotel key and he burst into an occupied room with his pants half down in his rush for the bathroom. Aaron and I made sure to deadbolt our hotel room a few nights later, and we even used the “Do Not Disturb” sign just in case (good thing too, in light of the cleaning ladies attempt to open our door at 8 AM).
Sometime, ask us about Aunt Wilhemina’s shotgun antics (or ask our sister-in-law Laura, who sat next to her in church one Sunday after she had shot an skunk).
Later that night, Uncle Marv and Aunt Bert gave us the 5 cent tour of their home, which used to be Grandpa and Grandma Groen’s. They served us some hand-distilled water and Uncle Marv offered us a snack (preventative, of course) before sending us to bed with the promise of vittles in the morning.
[Aaron with Aunt Bert after a hearty breakfast. About to head for the Black Hills.]I am so grateful to be part of this family.
