Author: amy mondloch

I am many things. I am a farmer's daughter, an activist, an educator, a mentor, an organizer, a person who cares about this place that we inhabit, a member of a community-- of many communities actually, a resident of a small Midwestern town, a little sister, an aunt, a friend, someone who likes to play with art supplies and spend time outdoors, a believer that people can create positive change, and a writer.

History Isn’t Such a Long Time

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I like history museums and historical sites. I’ll often go visit them to get to know the place that I live or the spot that I’m visiting or maybe just to get to know myself a little better.

Today, since it was raining and I had the day off of work, I took a trip down to the Pope County Museum in Glenwood Minnesota. It’s a great little museum. I would encourage folks traveling through the region and those who live here to stop in. It had one of the best displays on Native American history that I’ve seen in a museum of its size. True, I’ve seen some really inaccurate and just plain awful displays of Native history, but this one, it was okay. Overall, the museum was quite good, and, as far as I can tell, accurate.

As I wander, generally aimlessly, through museums and historic sites my mind comes to think of time. I come to understand connections and recognize how huge and small things are at the same time. Today, in the Pope County Museum, I studied a simple display. It was a timeline from the founding of Glenwood through the present. It laid out what seemed to be a rather random collection of historical events at national and local levels. Looking at it got me thinking again how short time really is.

Glenwood was founded in 1866. My great grandparents were just children then. My grandparents would be coming along in a few decades. Three of those grandparents would pass on before I was born, but one I knew. Grandma Mondloch was born in 1900 and would live until 1984. She passed on just after I turned 13.

I looked at that timeline just as I’ve looked at many historic sites. I looked at it thinking in Grandma time, looking at how the world has changed in a lifetime that I knew and still know. It’s not a story in a history book. It is life.

Grandma was the third generation of her family in this country. She grew up with her native language. I remember my Aunt Lucille telling me once how she’d been angry that, as kids, they spoke Luxembourgish at home and that it was tough to learn English as a school kid. Four generations, it took four generations to lose a language. Now, we expect immigrants to give up their language, forget who they are not in generations, not even in years, but immediately on coming to this country. We do this while we still try to find ourselves in festivals and museums, German Fest, Luxembourg Fest, Irish Fest, whatever fest.

I kept wandering through the museum. I turned a corner and a small Nazi pennant caught my eye. It was part of a display of items soldiers had brought home from WWII. My family knew this war. I had several uncles who fought, and well, all families knew this war in one way or another.

Last year I went to Luxembourg. I saw memorial sites and visited museums. I also learned a little something about myself. I learned that my ancestry generations back was Jewish. My branch of my family had left behind that identity generations ago, but it gave me a different perspective on those concentration camps. Those concentration camps became the death places of unknown cousins, aunties, uncles. They left the history books and became real. I had an uncle, Uncle Clarence, who helped free the people in the camps at the end of WWII. I never heard him speak of it. I just learned it some years ago from a cousin. I don’t know if he knew, but he was freeing family.

I look at it now in the question of the detention camps in the US. Is it any different? I mean really, is it any different? Looking back, somewhere we are family. We are detaining our brothers, sisters, cousins. We don’t have that right. We who carry European blood, this isn’t our land. We are, once again, imprisoning those who come from this place based on silly lines we drew on a piece of paper and called a map. The map isn’t real. It’s our lines. The lines we’ve drawn. Why do we keep drawing lines? It didn’t work when we held the Japanese in detention centers or when the Germans put Jews and others into the concentration camps or when we held Native peoples in stockades or for that matter as we still hold Native peoples on reservations or Black people in ghettos.

Stop with the lines, stop with the pretending that maps are reality. History is short. It’s not too big to change. All we need to do is to listen to the stories, learn, and act. Take a trip. Check out a museum, a historic site, maybe sit with an elder. Whatever it is, come to know yourself, where you are. Reach for knowledge. We have a lot to do.



Halfway Through Week One

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This experience has me baffled at the moment. I weighed myself this afternoon and the scale read the highest that it has in more than a year. I hope that it means that the batteries are dying in my scale.

Today was a low calorie day. I did well today with my fruits and vegetables intake. I hit nine cups! Strawberries, mango, banana, rhubarb, asparagus, mixed greens, broccoli, cauliflower, cucumber, and a bit of hummus. The hot weather helped. I didn’t want to cook so smoothies, yogurt and fruit, fresh vegetables and hummus were all good options for the day.

I suspect that at some point I will start to see weight loss. But, I wonder when? It is a strange thing that my weight is up rather than stable or down. I think I need to do some more reading to better understand what is happening.

I feel good though. It’s been a quiet couple of days without a whole lot going on and sometimes being so quiet can get me feeling down. I noticed today that I didn’t feel that. I just felt quiet, but not melancholy. I don’t know if my eating over the past few days has impacted my emotions, but I can hope that it has.

Now, I suppose might be a good time to put some thought into my grocery list for the weekend.

And oh, for those who’ve been following this journey, I waited for morning to have the berries and yogurt. I recognized last night that I was just wanting to eat for entertainment and not to assuage my hunger. I decide to find other ways to entertain myself.

Day 3

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Still high on the calories, that, I will admit, was due to a trip to Pizza Ranch though. The good news though on my pizza indulgence was that it included a large salad and a little less pizza then previous trips. I don’t know how much that matters given that their salads are made with spinach that is probably well sprayed with chemicals throughout its growth and nuts that are glazed with sugar. But still, it tells me that it is possible to have a meal out that is mainly reasonably healthy food and still enjoy it.

I didn’t hit the full nine cups of fruits and vegetables today, but I am within my goal of six to nine cups with roughly six cups. Given that most Americans are eating less than two cups of fruits and vegetables a day, I feel quite good about that. Plus, I am still considering a bowl of freshly picked strawberries with some yogurt. It feels a bit late and I am well over the calories for the day, but I just went to the U-Pick this afternoon and came home with just over twelve pounds of berries. It seems a shame not to eat some right away. Doesn’t it? Hmmm…..

2 Days In

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Day 2 of the 78 day challenge was a hungry one, but I am happy to say that I didn’t slide into the world of pizza and I did well with getting about nine cups of fruits and vegetables.

A purist in this journey toward better health might say that I’m depending too much on berries and bananas. But I’m going to say that in the world of sweets that some berries and bananas with a bit of cream and some sugar-free chocolate chips is a pretty good healthy option and I’m willing to go with it if it means that I’m not eating cake and ice cream.

For dinner I treated myself to dinner out at Mi Mexico. So, my calories were high for today. Still with a vegetarian option, I was able to keep on track with my vegetable intake goals. My protein, which is typically low, was also right on target. I’m hoping that this means tomorrow will not be a hungry day.

Feeling good. I am already not as tired as I was a week ago. I suppose, at this point, it’s mere coincidence, but we’ll see how it continues. I am hopeful that my health will continue to improve.

Day 1 of the Challenge

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I took a nap yesterday after writing my post, declaring my intent with the 78 day challenge to increase my fruit and vegetable intake, lower my carbohydrates, and just generally improve my health and lower my weight. I woke with one thought in my mind– “What the heck was I thinking???”

Well, the dice were tossed, so I am here to play the game. Today was a good start. It began with a smoothie. A cup of greens, one of mixed berries, and one of rhubarb with a bit of almond milk and maple syrup to sweeten and a few pecans on the side. It was surprisingly tasty. I had wondered if the rhubarb might be overpowering, but it worked well.

Breakfast was followed by a visit to my dietitian to follow up on earlier discussions on how to improve my diet so that I might become less dependent on my epilepsy medication and reach my goal weight as well. She added a few ideas that may prove helpful, encouraging me to work on my meal planning and move away from red meats in favor of more fish, among other things. There wasn’t a lot new there, but it was good nonetheless.

Lunch was simple, just some homemade tomato soup with a little cheese thrown in and some broccoli and hummus.

Dinner was the most complex meal of the day. Broiled walleye with a side of leftover mashed cauliflower and another of yam chips. Dessert was mixed berries with banana and sugar-free chocolate chips covered with just a bit of maple syrup and some whipping cream.

A quick review of the numbers told me that my carbs were still at 174 for the day. My goal is 100. I could get much closer by taking out syrup, raisins, and sugar-free chocolate chips. Taking out the yams would have put me well within range. I have to ask myself though what is most important to me? Is it that carbohydrate goal or enjoying a little bit of sweets? I don’t know. I do know that my carbohydrate levels must have been simply out of control before I started down this path a few years ago and that a keto diet sounds painful!

Still, it was a good start and I am happy with how I did.

The 78 Day Challenge

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Probably about fifteen years ago or so I started having headaches, bad headaches. At their worst they’d cause me to black out and cause nausea and exhaustion for days. Then about six years ago a housemate discovered me having a seizure. The seizures continued and I finally had a diagnosis. I had epilepsy.

While after a couple of tries my neurologist and I found a medication that dealt with the seizures and my headaches were largely gone with only a very rare occurrence. There were a couple of problems though. My medication causes brain fog. High doses make even simple tasks like spelling a big challenge and short and long term memory became an issue. Another problem was simply that I don’t like taking medicine and don’t want to take it for the rest of my life.

So, about two years ago I decided to embark on another path. I had my foods tested. The testing came up with nine food sensitivities. I leapt in taking my allergens out of my diet and starting to heal my gut. The results were great! I had been obese when I was first diagnosed. Upon changing my diet the weight started to come off. Ultimately, I lost about 50lbs and got to a reasonable weight. Adding in CBD oil over the past six months, I’ve been able to cut my zonisamide use by more than half and stay seizure free.

I’m still taking medication though and after two years of my diet changes I find myself slipping more lately and going to some of those bad for me foods. Pizza is a big one for me. Too many carbohydrates and too much dairy in general. I’ve added back a few of the pounds I lost and I’m noticing a bit fatigue lately.

It seems time to up the game again and I’ve realized that I need a form of accountability. That’s the 78 day challenge. My next neurologist appointment is in 78 days. I want to take some significant steps toward healing my brain and making my body more healthy before that visit.

I’ve been listening to Dr. Terry Wahls recently and am intrigued by her work, particularly by the idea of eating nine cups of vegetables a day. I’m intrigued because that’s a lot of food and I admit it, I like to eat. It’s also a way of looking at diet as a gift. So much of our food consumption is based on denial. I want to eat a diet that encourages me to take in a variety of delicious foods that treat me well.

Over the next 78 days I want to aim for that nine cups of vegetables a day, limit my bad carbs and dairy consumption, and increase my good fats and turn to healthy proteins. I am aiming to lose that last 25 lbs, get rid of that fatigue, and get a positive report from my neurologist.

I am hoping that you’ll join me on this journey. I’ll be updating here 3-7 times a week to let you know how it’s going. I would love to hear about what you are doing to care for yourself too!

It’s Been a Fair Experience

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One of my favorite parts of summer as a child was fair time, specifically going to the Sheboygan County Fair at the end of August. It was a family outing every year. We’d do it all. Wandering through the barns, riding the rides, eating the best of the funnel cakes, ice cream, and the simple plethora of fair food. The best, to my memory was the building with the school exhibits. It was filled, floor to ceiling, with the works of school kids across Sheboygan county. If I was lucky, I might find a piece that I’d created.

Fair time was also a time for a bit of jealousy. Who could help but be jealous of the 4-H kids? Girl Scout camp was great, but these kids got to have horses and cows of their own and got to spend nearly a week going on rides, eating fair food, and hanging out with friends in the barns!

Years later I still love a good fair. Sadly, it’s been a long time since I’ve been to the Sheboygan County Fair, but these days I’ve become a visitor to Minnesota’s fairs. It started with my work at Toxic Taters. Each year I’d go to Becker, Wadena, Hubbard, East Otter Tail, and Perham. One year I made it to West Otter Tail too and another year it was Cass County.

My time being employed with Toxic Taters is over, but my love of fairs continues. Already this year, I’ve been back to Wadena and today I was off to Todd County. I’m hoping for at least three more this year.

It’s a joy to watch those 4-H kids. I never realized when I was busy being jealous of them for their freedom and fun as a kid, that the reality was that they were learning, developing a base for themselves to work from into the future. I suppose the same happened in Girl Scouts, but I was too busy having fun myself at the time to notice.

Each county brings something special to its celebration. Today in Todd county, I saw their strengths in showing cattle and doing the barrel runs with the horses. Last weekend’s highlight in Wadena was definitely the tractor pull. Becker county is strong in the midway offering lots of rides and games for the kids.

None of the fairs have quite energy that I remember from those days at Sheboygan county. Today, I actually saw a large list of disbanded 4-H groups in Todd county hanging on a wall. It made me a bit sad. I wonder if 4-H might rebuild as we, as a society, come to recognize our need for healthy foods, the necessity of working toward environmental and economic sustainability if we are to survive, and if there might come a day in which we truly recognize our need for community such as that which is offered through groups like 4-H and events like the fairs. Could we become that dream community again that I imagine from my childhood? What would it take? What does the fair, the 4-H of the future look like? How do we continue to provide that base of learning and that simple freedom and fun?

Meanwhile, I’ll just keep going to the fairs we have and having fun with the simple things from wandering among the animals to checking out the demo derby!

That Time of Year Again

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It’s getting to be that time of year again. Some years it passes with barely a notice. Other years I find myself thinking about it for weeks as it nears. The anniversary of my mom’s death is coming up again on July 7th.

This year there’s something different again. I realized it the other day. While my health is good, I am entering “the cancer years.” My mom was about my age when she was first diagnosed with breast cancer. What a strange thing to think about. Walking down the street, it just came to me and I realized that were I in her shoes I’d only have six year left. How bizarre.

Personally, my plan at the moment is to continue on for at least another forty or fifty years and to maintain and improve my health along the way. Still, I find myself thinking of her and the fact that we don’t know when our end is coming.

Mom was a religious woman. God was her center. I don’t claim her belief system, but I recognize in myself the same importance to believe. Where she spent her hours in prayer meetings and churches, reading the bible, and fingering rosaries, I lay down my tobacco and breathe, walk and burn the sage.

It’s a good time to recognize my similarities with the woman I loved and still love 35 year after she’s crossed over the river. Nearly 48 years into my life and I am still getting to know myself. That’s powerful. That’s good.

Still, it’s scary to make another mammogram appointment. Yet, I will go in, breathe deep, and know in my heart that my path is long and is to be filled with health and good things. It is for me to live each day. Cancer was her story and it is not mine. I am thankful.

Lost in a New Adventure of Writing

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I am sitting here this morning in the local coffee shop, enjoying a nice Italian soda and questioning my lack of direction for my latest adventure.

I’ve always been a writer. Going back through the treasures in my house you could find old poems, essays, stories, journal entries, going back for four decades, ever since I learned my ABCs. Most of my entries are simply stream of thought. Many aren’t that great, but a few are good. In this world of words with so many outlets calling for writers, I find myself wondering if I might find success somewhere sharing stories.

For years I spent so much of my time at rallies and organizing people, working behind the scenes to push legislation and putting together trainings to teach others how to organize or just about issues. Now, I find myself wanting to both move on and keep sharing and supporting the good work. I wonder if freelance writing might be a way to keep telling the stories, keep helping grow the movement.

My life has changed so much in recent years too. My epilepsy diagnosis six years ago started me down a path that has changed me. I eat differently. I work differently. I know myself differently. I wonder too if I might use my words to help others find health.

There are so many stories to share. I share some here. That is good. Broadening my reach would be a gift. That’s why I wonder about trying freelancing. That and I will admit that extra little paychecks here and there are always welcome.

Now I find myself sitting with a list of possible outlets and so little direction. I wish I knew how to do this. I keep thinking this morning of JK Rowling. I admit I am a Harry Potter fan. I’ve always heard that she just started with a dream and not much in the way of experience, support, or direction. Still, she found her way and changed the world.

Preparing for the Journey

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I drove home to Wisconsin last weekend to celebrate Easter with my family. It’s a bit of hike for just a weekend, about an eight or nine hour drive each way. But, it was important. I needed both to get away to relax and to go see family especially my dad.

Dad turned 91 last month. He’s had a good journey through this life, seen a lot of both sorrow and joys, but largely I think joys have won out, six kids, twelve grandkids, and seven great-grandchildren all surrounded in love.

Things are changing with him now. They have been for several years at least, but now it’s moving faster. Dad is walking away, heading toward the next journey. Dad has dementia. No big surprise these days at 91, still it’s strange to watch, to see him go, and to feel the feelings that go with it.

I went home last weekend knowing it might be the last visit when Dad would know me. What a strange thing to wonder if one’s own father will recognize them. This time he did, though I think for a moment he may have confused me and one of my sisters. She and I look a lot alike so that made sense. Others, with healthy, functioning brains, confuse us as well.

There are a lot of sad stories out there about elderly people left alone in nursing homes with no one to visit them. I never understood that. How could someone leave an elder to die alone? I think I have some perspective now. It’s not necessarily a lack of love, but too much. It takes a lot of strength to be with the person you love when they are no longer there.

This became clear to me when my sister JoAnn, who is the primary caretaker for Dad, got a message from his care facility letting her know that he was having a rough day. We decided to stop by and check things out in person rather than just calling back.

We got there to find Dad confused and frustrated and as is becoming typical, not wearing his hearing aids. He thought some of his belongings were missing and he’d gone into other people’s rooms to find them. He’d come out with other people’s belongings and still believing his things were gone. He argued with us and the staff person, telling us if we didn’t find his missing clothing he’d just go find it himself.

It’s hard for me to imagine what it would be like to feel that unsafe in my home even more bizarre to think that without his hearing aids Dad just saw mouths moving, but couldn’t hear enough to understand the words being said. What would that be like to be in this place where nothing makes sense anymore?

I don’t know, but I can tell you that seeing Dad in that place tore my heart out. I can see why people stop visiting their aging parents when each visit acknowledges the pain and confusion and the reality that there is nothing we can do to make it better other than maybe just being there.

JoAnn was able to put his hearing aids in and work with staff to put away the belongings he’d taken while I just sat with him for a bit to help him calm. Then JoAnn and the staff reassured him by taking a look through his closet and assuring him that everything was there. Dad was calm and maybe a little reassured by the time we left. I came back later in the day to find him still confused and concerned about his belongings, but in a better mood and able to carry on conversation, albeit a strange conversation. At least he trusted me as I assured him that both he and his belongings were safe and cared for.

On Easter we had a family party. Dad was able to join us and proudly shared his little paper bunny basket full of candies with everyone. Most of the afternoon he just smiled at everyone. He did, at one point, introduce a granddaughter to her own father, but at least he knew who both of them were on some level. He just didn’t know they knew each other.

We were all glad that he could join us, but I think we all recognized with sadness that this was probably his last family party. He may live for more years, but he is, at the same time, leaving us. I don’t think any of us know quite what to do with that. I know that each moment of recognition, every hug and kiss means more to me than ever before.

Minnesota now feels a million miles away from home in Wisconsin. Dad can’t hold conversations on the phone anymore. He needs to see faces to be able to connect the sounds and have it make sense. I told him when we parted that I’d write to him. He thanked me and let me know that he wouldn’t write back. Dementia does sometimes encourage honesty, I guess.

I don’t know if I will ever get to really talk with him again. Even if we are someday in the same place together, will he be there?

I don’t know what all this means other than hold your elders close, honor them, love them, comfort them. The journey in this world is hard. Hopefully the spirit world gives comfort someday.