That Was Your Mother ... on a Motorcycle

This is a picture of me back in 1995-96. Yes, that's MY motorcycle--a blue Suzuki 650. I called it "Blue Skies." And, Yes, I knew how to ride it. There were a couple of us at the coop that year (Me, Kevin, Kelly--Frank Nick had been riding for years) who wanted to learn to ride--and we did. There is nothing quite like feeling the curves on a motorcycle down country roads on a beautiful day! Feeling the physics-of-motion is fun in itself!

I took the safety course at the tech school, and passed the driver's test. I highly recommend these courses to anyone wanting to ride a motorcycle. It will remove the guess-work of what to do when, give you confidence and practice riding with teacher's in a controlled environment.

I remember when I took the bike in to Motorcycle Performance to have some work done on it (new brakes, new rear tire). When I went to pick it up, the mechanics ran over each other to see this "chick" who bought and rode a 650 cc bike. I think I smiled and waved at them. They didn't get out much, I guess.

Learning to ride that bike was a big deal for me. My bank job had recently been eliminated, and I really needed to do something to make me feel in control of my own destiny then--nothing like learning a new skill for that! It was a little bit scary at first, but I conquered those fears and learned to ride it. I was in charge. I could pick it up when it tipped over (It was a delicate balance, but do-able).

I still have an M on my driver's license, but I sold the bike before I got married. I was concerned about my safety not so much on the open road, as in town. People in cars tend not to see people on motorcycles--I suspect people in SUVs literally can't see them. Even though I had all the safety gear and made myself as visible as possible, I was still concerned for my safety. I gave the bike up.

These days, I get a ride every few years with someone I trust at the handlebars. I don't have my own bike anymore, but I kept my gear just in case the urge took me and I had to go again ...

10 Ways to Tell your Children ... I Love You

We have this magnet stuck to the fridge. Oliver looks at it regularly. He calls me on 5) "Spend time and play with your children" commandment. He loves to play games--role-playing games, board games, computer games. I'm just not a game-player, so I tend not to engage him in that way, but I remind him that we DO spend time together laughing and playing. I'm more likely to "make stuff" with him.

The other one he got me on this week is 10) "Say the words 'I love you" at least once a day. That one I can do ... He doesn't like kisses anymore, but I can say this. I'd better do it now--He won't appreciate it when he's 14 and on his way out to be with his friends.

I am amazed and impressed that he has taken these 10 commandments to heart. He knows what they mean and he has the self-esteem to bing us (his parents) in line when he sees us falling off the wagon.

Eat the Music

At my Women's Group tonight, the topic of discussion was :
"What song do you most connect with spiritually?"

All month, I've been thinking about this question. This has been a tough assignment for me--there were many songs that were candidates ... In the end, I chose Eat the Music by Kate Bush because I think of myself as a Pagan at heart.

To me, this song is about living life, feeling, experiencing everything. It's about Being Here Now. It's about sensuality. One of my beefs with some religions is that they are too much about the afterlife, and all about privations here on Earth. What's the point of that? We're only here for a short while, why not make the most of it? Live it up!

Having your heart ripped out is not necessarily a bad thing. If you take it all in, and turn the experiences inside out, then everything is laid bare and transformed in the process.

"And this curve, is your smile. And this cross, is your heart. And this line, is your path." --Kate Bush

Kate Bush made a wonderful video for this song as part of The Line the Cross, and the Curve where she tells the story of The Red Shoes as a short film in a music video format. She was feeling trapped with a pair of red shoes that were ruining her life--she couldn't get them off her feet, and they wouldn't let her rest. Someone advised her to "Sing back the symbols."

In Eat the Music, Kate Bush is singing and dancing with people she loves, in a room filled with fruit and color and life and joy. She got back on her path this way by living her own life, not someone else's--doing what she loved (singing). She was able to get rid of the Red Shoes this way.

This line is your path; this cross is your heart; this curve, your smile.

She gave them away--she gave her path, her heart, and her joy away. And it was her journey to get them back again--not just by chasing the Crow who tricked them away from her. She wanted to live someone else's dream and be a dancer. But that got away from her. She couldn't control it. The shoes had a mind of their own. She needed to "sing back the symbols"; she needed to go back to her own path, bear her own cross, and rediscover her joy in order to get the symbols back. It wasn't just in chasing this trickster woman, but in living her own life for herself. When she forgot about the trickster and got lost in her own thing in Eat the Music, she got back on her path. And that's why the trickster got the curse of the shoes returned to her--trying to live someone else's dream again.

Yes, it was an important film for me.

What is my JOY? Skating

What is my Path?

What is my Cross?

Lessons of The Red Shoes aka Kate Bush

1. Sing Back the Symbols

2. Protect yourself with Fire

3. Call on those you love, and who love you

4. (SKATE!) for your smile

5. Live your own dream

6. Follow your own path

7. Follow your heart and be true to it and your path

Acrophobia Overcome : A Poem

Acrophobia Overcome
A Poem by Michele Matucheski, Copyrighted 1991

I've been stepping out my window lately
to lie upon the roof over the south deck.
At night, I can't see the height below me in the abyss,
And looking up, it seems
I can only fall into the
Lake of Stars above me.
And so I close my eyes and
let the night seep into my bones.
It's not like drowning
(nor drowning upside-down).
Rather, it fills my lungs
and widens my being until
I feel as huge as the air
that buoys me in the night.

For the night is not all dark.
It is peopled with the pale face of the moon
and the freckled presence of the stars,
pinholes in the veil that reveal
immense intensity in the light behind--
Together, they bare light enough
to read the shadows of the trees
that run like veins of Alaskan Diamonds* through
the visage my vantage affords me.

And I wonder
What is there to fear in the night?

* Alaskan Diamonds refers to hematite, a dark mineral with a rich luster.


I wrote this poem as a class assignment for African Poetry at UW-Madison. Not only did we read and interpret poetry, Dr. Kunene asked us to MAKE poetry. That was a good period in my life--I was content (still am, mostly).

One day, I had a great talk with a far-away friend. He asked, What's the prettiest place you've ever been? For him, it was someplace in Missouri on the river with the hills and water. I always pictured a scene from Lewis & Clark. For me at the time, it was Shakopee, MN. I got to work there for a short time. I remember the hotel was near a race track, so things were spread out--I awoke to dew seeping through my sandals from the lush red clover I was standing in, tree-covered hills on the horizon, and a field of wheat not far off. But I guess it doesn't really matter where I am, so long as I can make out a sky full of stars, I can be happy.

Not long after, the night was so beautiful. It was after I talked with Jody, that I went for a walk. The stars were beginning to appear. And when I got back to the House, I sat in the yard and just drank in that beautiful night : the breeze in the trees, Miriam's cello, that saphhire sky ... It was WONDERFUL, and I wanted Miriam to feel it too. So I sat her in a lawn chair, face turned towards the stars, and I read her my "Acrophobia Overcome" poem. It still accurately expresses the sentiment I get from the experience. Enjoy!

A Lantern to Light your Way

Click on this image for a larger view--It will make the words more readable.

I carry this little photo and quote with me everywhere. I don't take it out and look at it so often anymore, but it is still important enough that I want this knowledge available--should I need a reminder.

It's a little bit of encouragement from a very wise woman in my life, Anne Lundin. She was one of my Professors in Library School. One summer, I took her Storytelling class. That's where I heard her say the above, and it's stayed with me ever since. Thank you, Anne Lundin!

Fee Fi Fo Fum on a Summer's Day

Fee Fi Fo Fum "These are the Days"

This is a band I got to see live in a downtown Minneapolis Park one summer afternoon in 1988. I remember steel drums--If they didn't have them, they still evoked that summer tropical sound.

The band broke up long ago. I'm not sure they ever released an "official" album. They were selling tapes (remember cassette tapes?) in that park that day with hand-colored liner notes. The illustrations were kind of like mud-cloth doodles--electric stick figures. I bought one and gifted it to my friend, J--but not before making a copy for myself. ;-)

On the B-side, I taped Johnny Clegg and Savuka. To me, Fee Fi Fo Fum had a similar dance-able, happy tropical rhythm.

Well, I had that tape for 15 years. It was also some of the music my son liked, too, after he came along. The tape lived in his room when he was small. Until one day, he decided to see how cassette tapes worked--and he pulled out the tape--irrevocably. It was ruined.

Of course, Oliver (at 2-3 years old) had no idea what he'd done. I was heartbroken--that tape was irreplaceable -- even in this Internet Age where you can supposedly buy anything on eBay. 1) It had minimal distribution to begin with
2) J no longer had the original tape
3) It was long out of print
4) It pre-dated the Internet

So I listened to Johnny Clegg and tried to remember Fee Fi Fo Fum, their music and lyrics.

One day a year or two ago, my sweet, thoughtful husband CL (I don't get diamond rings from him -- I get these kinds of really thoughtful, meaningful gifts out of the blue) told me he'd been in contact with one of the original band members via email. This guy (Javier?) still had some of the old (reel to reel?) tapes and promised to make us a copy ... That never quite happened---but it does look like he posted a few vids to You Tube. This discovery today made my day! I'll keep looking for MP3s of their tunes.

A few of their other songs :
Rosalee
Safe as Milk
Where the Pieces Fall
Stay with You

As video goes, it's not much to look at--but I still love the tunes and sentiments of the lyrics. Turn 'em on in the background and go do something else. Enjoy!

If the band sees this post--You still have fans in the Midwest!

Bread Pudding with Blueberries

A few weeks ago at a local restaurant, I got to taste a wonderful dessert. This is my attempt at re-creating it at home.

My version is based on an old recipe from Heidi Huser's Grandmother. We used to make this (among other delectables) on Northern Exposure Mondays at Heidi's apartment in Madison, WI.

Heidi--I still have the recipe and still love it! What always amazed me about this recipe was the simplicity--Everything is mixed in the same dish it is baked in. The eggs are broken over the bread cubes and gently (not vigorously) stirred in.

Bread Pudding (a la Heidi's Gramma)

3-4 cups bread crumbs in a 1-1/2 qt. casserole dish
(Old bread ripped into bite-sized pieces works fine)

Blend in:
2 cups milk scaled with 1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup sugar
3 eggs
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon (or more as desired)
1/2 cup raisins, if desired

Bake at 350 degrees for 40-45 minutes, uncovered, until a knife inserted comes out clean.

Serve warm with milk poured over the top.

Mmmmh! I wish you could smell it!

Hidden Passages is 1 Year old!

August 5 marks the 1-year anniversary of Hidden Passages as a blog. Hurray! 93 posts later, and I still have things to write about ...

Here is the obligatory link back to the very first post.

Here's a picture of this week's bouquet purchased at Farmer's Market this morning :



I started this blog last summer because I was feeling mortal. I wanted my kid to know his history, our family stories, the lessons I've learned if I wasn't around to tell them. This is sort of scrapbook for my son ... who isn't really interested in all this stuff now, but someday ... This is part of my legacy. Enjoy!

Day at the Lake

I was thinking about summer days spent at Mueller's Lake when I made this quilt a few years ago.

I grew up outside of a small town in Northern Wisconsin. We lived 1/2 mile from a beautiful spring-fed lake. This past weekend, Oliver got to swim there for the first time in his life.

My Mom also grew up on Mueller's Lake. She and her friends ran a consession stand back in the 1960s. They also cleaned up the garbage and took great care of the beach. She said the Polar kids kept the beach clean and nice, but it was also the Polar kids who always got blamed for any trouble on the Lake. Trouble usually came from outside of Polar ...

When I was a kid, I remember a raft out beyond the buoys. My Mom said she used to swim across the Lake when she was young. When I was a kid, the other side of the lake always looked so far away ... Now that' I'm an adult, it doesn't look so far.

When I was a kid, the public beach got so bad that Ma wouldn't let us swim there for safety reasons. There was a lot of broken glass and garbage that never seemed to get cleaned up. People would also come with big-ass motor boats pulling water-skiers. It's still a relatively small lake for speedboats. Those boaters were not very careful about watching for swimmers, either. They would motor right up to the buoys, and sometimes even over them. It seems to be better now ... at least it's clean again. We didn't give up swimming though.

Ma had an arrangement with a neighbor who lived on the lake. They let us swim at their private beach just down from the public beach. They had a raft that looked kind of like an oil rig. It had a high point to dive off of, but no off-shore drilling.

The other neighbors had a tall orange slide. We had to pour a pail of water down first or we'd stick to the hot metal slide. Once the slide was lubed, it was a lot of fun!

Lots of seaweed that was interesting to study underwater with a scuba mask. But it was creepy to touch with feet, or other body parts. You never knew what monster lurked in the deep!

I saw a bald eagle flying over the lake this weekend. So nice to see those majestic birds making a comeback!