Family

  1. The Beauty of Earth

    The Beauty of Earth

    Wednesday was Earth Day which  has always struck me as a rather panicked holiday, somewhat akin to Apple Watch Delivery Day.  As of 3:03 am Mr. PQ has not received his golden ticket of specific delivery date goodness.  The vixen in me so relishes the possibility of my Apple Watch arriving before his.  I’d likely just leave it unopened on the corner of my desk for several hours and watch his hair fall to the ground in chunks.

    But I digress.  I love the month of April here in Minnesota.  All things nature that slumbered through winter begin to awaken and dress in their summer clothes.  Having been battered by six months of blistering cold temperatures, some years without nature’s blanket of snow to protect them, other years oppressed by a concrete like slab of the stuff, I marvel at the tenacity of the more  fragile lifeforms that emerge for another growing season.  As a person who spends as much time in the outdoors as I

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  2. When in Mexico...

    When in Mexico...

    Most folks are familiar with the phrase, “when in Rome do as the Romans do.”  While on this trip to visit our friends and manufacturing partners in Leon Guanojuanto Mexico I learned a new phrase, “a donde fueras,  haz lo que vieres”.  A loose translation of this old spanish saying is, “where you go, do what you see”.  A donde fueras, haz lo que vieres in Leon means eating quesedillas under a makeshift tarpelin tent and paying scant attention to the bubbling pot from which the meat is pulled, (I’m not certain but I think I saw an eye wink at me).  Most delicious street food I’ve encountered, and a Mr. PQ favorite.  He wants me to make this comida at home, but I’m reasonably certain this feat can’t be replicated in the United States, because it’s not just the ingredients.  It’s the hot desert air and the cool shade of the tarp, it’s the seasoning

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  3. Dickens, Whiskey and friends

    Dickens, Whiskey and friends

    An old proverbial saying admonishes “do not look at wine when it is red, when it sparkles in the cup and goes down smoothly”.   I’m guessing ole King Solomon with all his wisdom, did not intend for that to apply to an evening out with Dennis.  Dennis is a rare gem of a man whose townhouse is a veritable reliquary of theatrical and literary lore.  Included among his bookshelves are first editions of Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”, and original correspondence between members of the Pickwick Club.  A Dickens aficionado, Dennis brought A Christmas Carol to theatres across the country and was thereby invited to an audience at Buckingham Palace to meet Her Majesty the Queen of England.  Additionally, he is a close, personal friend to Cedric Charles Dickens, the great, grandson to the great, literary giant.  Crazy, the people you acquaint with over curry and conversation in an inconsequential cove in the middle of pretty much nowhere. 

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  4. He's a Lumbersexual

    He's a Lumbersexual

    I found myself out of town essentially every weekend in September and October largely due to travel with the high school coed mountain bike team and travel to Superior Hiking Trail Association trail clearing weekends.  I'd return Sunday evenings, worn but refreshed from days spent in the fall sunshine, trampling through the woods to cheer or chop, Sherpa or shovel, replete with stories of new acquaintances made and old friendships rekindled.

    At first, Mr PQ held down the home front with the usual grace he affords my little weekend outings, generally teachings the boys to be manly men with hot wing challenges and late night video game duals. But, by about the third week of September, I noticed a subtle change. At first it was things, like a shipment of pine scented beard oil landing on our front door step from CanYouHandleBar. What? He said it was a market research product from a company with which we are loosely affiliated. Then,

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  5. The wait is worth it.

    The wait is worth it.

    There are days when writing a blog post are easy, and then there are days you wake up wanting to spend the day in baggy sweats listening to John Denver on Spotify and crying because all your children are leaving home and Mr. PQ told you last night’s roast was a little dry.  You’d be dry too if you’d spent two days cooking in a crockpot.  Whoever is squelching the patent on the cure for PMS should really spend eternity in Dante’s fourth ring of hell.  Seriously, if we can engineer a smart phone that slides the screen content up and down with a subtle tap on the home button, (Yea iPhone 6, my fun size fingers thank you!) I’d think we could come up with a countermeasure aimed at reducing the monthly pseudo psychosis and histrionics of half the world’s population.

    I’m not holding my breath, because while the aforementioned iPhone doesn’t bend, it does consistently send out random voice texts to people on my contact list. 

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  6. iPhone 6 and a birthday

    iPhone 6 and a birthday

    Mr. PQ begins the slide down the backside of 40 this week and he has the dubious distinction of sharing a birthday with either Labor Day (yea, party) or the first day of school (birthday, what birthday?)  This year he has a few days of buffer between the first day of school and the Great Unveiling of ’14. In case you missed the announcement announcing the announcement of the official announcement, Apple is releasing a new something they won’t say. It’s an iPhone.

     

    So, in addition to thinking about school supplies and Tandoori Chicken (birthday dinner; why do I insist on making things I have no business replicating?) I am awash in iPhone 6 anticipation.  Will it organize my wardrobe?  I was told baggy sweats are not appropriate attire for our weekly staff meeting. (Even when said staff meeting is held on a surprisingly cold and rainy day and I foolishly wore uniform shorts to meet my morning training clients, and baggy sweats were the

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  7. Sexy should not be in your resume

    Sexy should not be in your resume

    We are currently hiring to fill various positions in the Pad & Quill workshops.  After reviewing a few hundred e-applications I have the following advice to offer young applicants:

    Dear Job Applicants,

    Please refrain from sending me cover emails that begin with "yo, I'd like this job", or "Hey, call me about this position" etc. Please create an email for yourself that includes your first and last name and not your social media "handle" or email such as "mr.sexypants.mpls@seriously?.com" and please, for the love of god, consult with a resume writer so that you don't include lines such as, "I was a line cook and stuff like that" under employment history.

    Regards,

    Mrs. PQ

    If your professional correspondence contains the word “sexy” in any capacity, you are probably not a candidate to purchase our new Valet Luxury Sleeve for

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  8. Important things

    I popped into my “other” job at the YMCA Tuesday, only to be met by a coworker informing me that “Crazy” Patrick had died.  While his demise is sad, sadder still in my mind is that he died alone in his house only to be discovered by his sister, his body already beginning to seep into the threads of a battered easy chair.  I suppose Patrick suffered the euphemism “crazy” attached to his name because he was quite possibly the only person I know who owned a different monochromatic outfit for every day of the week.  From headband down to matching sneakers it might be a blue day or a red day for Patrick, as he’d corner you into a conversation littered with adventurous tales which, when strung together, wove a story to rival that of Forrest Gump.

     

    Waiting eagerly for iPhone 6 to release, Mr. PQ and I have traveled to the north shore to work on a new project aimed at introducing a notable piece of the north woods to

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  9. Baby shipping

    Baby shipping

    Sometimes I find when I’ve retold a story a number of times, I lose the writing narrative of that story and it can take change of venue or thought process for it to return.  So, while I was fully prepared to regale our customers with wonderful adventures of the oldest kid and I in the vast wilderness boundary between the United States and Canada, I’m stuck.  Mr. PQ and I are heading back up north this weekend to cheer on Grandma’s Marathon participants, so perhaps by returning to the scene of the crime, I’ll get my mojo back.

    I desperately need my mojo back, we are busy preparing for the release of iPhone 6 and I am having the damnedest time stringing my thoughts together.  Perhaps I just need the World Cup #ibelievethatwewillwinit to conclude.

    Here’s how I know I’m losing my mind:  Brian texted the other day to inform me that a major online magazine wants to feature our packaging in an article.  I had to think

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  10. I'm what you might call, 'In-Doorsy'

    I'm what you might call, 'In-Doorsy'

    So Mrs PQ just took are eldest daughter and headed off into the wilderness of the Great Boundary Waters in northern Minnesota. Canoes and tents are the only items allowed in this area as all motorized vehicles, boats ect. are banned. Truly a ‘leave it as you found it’ vast preserve.

    Mrs. PQ hinted to our differences in her last post and I’ll offer another one right here.  When it comes to the great outdoors, I’m what comedian Jim Gaffigan might say, ‘In-doorsy’.  Never really understood why you take all the indoor stuff and bring it outdoors under nylon material that’s about as thin as my columbia shorts.

    Anyhow she’s been gone for about 4 days and that means one thing: To the dread of the other 3 quills, I’m the official meal planner. I’m actually fairly mean with a good frypan, organic eggs, spinach and some cheddar cheese. 

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