Podcasts about Twin Ports

Cabin Cousins: Part 5 The Gales of November. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections. "Hmm" Melissa said, her face still buried in the pillow. She shifted and turned her head, and I moved to her side with one arm and a leg still draped over so we could look into each other's eyes. "Wow. That was..." She sighed. "...Wonderful." I smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." She squinted at me. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming, and you're just a figment of my imagination?" She said playfully, though I could tell there was something serious behind the question. "I'm real, and I'm right here, in your bed, and I love you." She searched my eyes for a moment, rolled onto her side, and pulled me in close, kissing me deeply. When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, she whispered. "It's our bed, and I love you too." We held each other in silence for a long while. I knew that she had something else to say, but I didn't push her. Eventually, she broke the silence. "Do you want pancakes? I want pancakes." Not exactly the soul-baring statement I was expecting, but now that she had said it, by damn I wanted pancakes. "I'll help." I had made pancakes exactly once before, and it wasn't a complete disaster, so I felt that my inclusion in the process wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. She got a distant look in her eye, then rolled onto her back, and covered her face with her hands with a groan. "I don't have any pancake mix." She peeked at me through her fingers and we both started laughing. I'm not sure why but we both found it hilarious but we roared with laughter. I playfully pushed her towards the side of the bed. "Well, get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast." Still laughing, she got up and opened a dresser drawer. Stepping into a pair of light blue panties, she asked. "Are you getting dressed too, or are you going to go like that?" "I'm thinking about it." I quipped, eyes following her every movement. I loved watching her move. She had a litheness and grace to her. Cat-like? No, that's not quite right. Amazonian? Maybe, but that implies a stature and bulk that Melissa didn't have. She was fit, not body builder muscular, and she wasn't particularly tall, just shy of my own five foot ten. She was perfect, and my eyes couldn't get enough of her. Let's leave it at that. "You'll give the old ladies at Perkins quite a shock." She shot back, still laughing. With an exaggerated sigh, I rolled off the bed. "For the sake of the old ladies, fine, I'll get dressed." Chapter Sixteen. The plate clinked as Melissa set down her fork. "Ugh. I ate too much, but that really hit the spot." She had attacked her "tremendous twelve" meal with murderous intent. All that remained was a scrap of crust from a piece of toast, and some maple syrup residue on an otherwise clean plate. She had even swiped a strip of bacon off of my plate, an act that left fork marks on my brother's hands on several occasions. I looked at my plate, with its pile of hash browns and a third of a stack of pancakes remaining, and set down my fork. "I guess I didn't work up as much of an appetite as you, cause I'm stuffed too." Melissa looked at me with her special smile and mischievous eyes. "Well, you'll have to try harder next time." "I need to work out more." "I can help with that." She replied, and we both giggled, knowing the truth of it. "Let's start with a walk." We left the Perkins restaurant, and with Melissa navigating, we drove north out of Duluth on Hwy 61. We pulled off and parked where a little river crossed under the road and spilled through a steep set of rocky rapids to Lake Superior below. We hiked down a little trail, and she led me out onto one of the big rocks. The scenery was spectacular, and the water rushing past the rocks had a hypnotic quality. It hadn't snowed last night, but the wind was blowing hard off the lake, and the constant mist from the rapids gave the crisp early November air some real bite. We sat for a while without speaking. Just two people holding hands, taking in the scenery and the roar of the water. There was a Gordon Lightfoot song that had something about the gales of November, how did it go? "When I left home," Melissa began, just loud enough to hear. I turned and watched her, careful to hear what she was saying over the noise of the rapids. I had been hoping for, and dreading this moment, when she decided to get the details of her past out in the open. I resolved to not interrupt and to let her tell it at her own pace. "This was the first place I went." She continued. "I didn't know where to go. I didn't have anywhere to go." She sniffed. We were alone but had someone been watching, her running nose and the tears on her cheek might have been assumed to have been caused by the cold, but I knew differently. I could see the deep down hurt that was welling up, and my heart ached. I squeezed her hand, and let her talk. "Every night for two weeks, I'd leave school, then go up the hill to the mall and sit in the food court to do my homework. When the mall closed, I came here, and parked for the night right over there." She pointed up to the little parking lot where my truck was. "I'd wake up, scrape the snow and frost off the windows, and go to school. I didn't tell anyone because then I'd have to explain why I was sleeping in a car in February. I had friends, but not close friends, you know? Like, not the kind of friends that I could talk to about..." She trailed off and wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve. "I had been lucky, it hadn't been as cold as it should have been, but then one night it got very cold. When I left the mall, I knew if I spent the night here again, I could be in serious danger. So I went to the laundromat. There was never anyone in there in the middle of the night, so I sat at one of the tables and fell asleep. The owner woke me up a couple of hours later, yelling at me that I couldn't sleep there, so I got in my car and came back here." She had been looking at the water as she spoke, but now turned and looked at me. I saw the fear and shame these memories invoked. I wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but I knew that I should let her say what she needed to say, so I let her continue. "When I went to sleep on the back seat, I didn't think I was going to ever wake up, and I was okay with that. I didn't care that I was going to die. Nobody cared, nobody would miss me. The world would be better off without one more stupid girl. Why bother going on?" She looked away from me, east towards the vast lake, and her face twisted up in anger. "You know, the worst thing, the worst part of all of it, is they made me feel like it was all my fault. They had me so twisted up, that I believed that I was the cause of everything that happened." She turned back to me, the anger fading, leaving just a profound sadness. I wiped the tears from her cheek, and she leaned her shoulder against me. "Did your parents tell you what happened?" My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard before replying. "They were vague." She gave a little smile that was like a sunbeam on a stormy day. "I asked your mom and dad not to tell anyone. You're so lucky to have them." She looked back to the lake and spoke quietly enough that if her face had not been right next to mine, I wouldn't have been able to hear her. "When I was fifteen, when I started looking more like a woman, and less like a little girl, my dad started abusing me. Mom, she was drunk more than she was sober. She knew, she had to know, and she didn't do anything." As the River roared in its ceaseless path to Lake Superior, and the cold wind whistled and rattled through the leafless trees, Melissa spoke of abuse and divorce, lost jobs and social status, the failing of the system to help a girl who was too scared to ask for help and the blame that was assigned for all of it. "So that night, I remember when the state trooper knocked on my window." She gave a brief mirthless huff. "I thought he was an angel, with the way his flashlight lit up the frost on the inside of the window. I thought I was dead, that it was all over. I felt relieved." She shook her head. "The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed, wrapped in electric blankets, and seeing the sunrise through the window. That trooper was there. He had stayed with me, way past the end of his shift, just to make sure I was alright. Turns out, when they went to my parent's house to see what was going on, my dad was out of town, and my mom ended up getting arrested for assaulting an officer and having a bunch of heroin. That's why she went back to him. Not for me, but for the money to buy her drugs. The trooper persuaded me to reach out to my friends. He said that people can be capable of unexpected acts of kindness, and I decided to believe him. So I called Ashley. We had always gotten along pretty well, and her parents were always super nice to me. They let me stay with them, which was really awkward at first. I just couldn't believe that a family could be so, so perfect. It was like stepping into an old sitcom. Maybe there was a little trouble now and then, but everyone loved each other, and it all worked out in the end. It was surreal, but eventually, I started believing that it was how families should be. That it was right and good, and normal." She looked me in the eyes then, and I saw her love burning through the hurt. "I didn't think that I would ever have that. I thought that there was no way I could ever open up and let someone love me, to be me, to be normal. Who could want me? Then your parents invited me back to the cabin, and I grasped onto a foolish hope that maybe you could. Ever since it's just been, It just doesn't seem real. Charles, I know you love me, but I'm still so afraid." I silenced her with a quick kiss on the lips. I held her cold, rosy cheeks in my hands and looked her in the eyes. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" Fresh tears streamed down her face, not tears of remembered pain, but tears of joyful love. She threw her arms around me and we held each other tight. Overhead, a hawk called, adding its little part to the scene of wind, water, and young lovers. Chapter Seventeen. Getting in my truck and leaving Duluth that evening was the hardest thing I had ever done. The only thing that gave me the strength to leave was the knowledge that it was only temporary. Soon, very soon, I would never have to leave her again. When I got home, Mom was at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. She greeted me with a smile. I had to be very careful with how I was going to handle this conversation. I didn't want to lie to my mom, but I also didn't want to tell her the whole truth. "How was your weekend? I didn't get a call from the cops, so it couldn't have been too exciting." "I was the cop! We went to a Halloween party dressed as the Village People." "Fun!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a beaming smile. "Yeah, and something else happened. Do you know how I can get my employee discount at any store? Well, we stopped at one of the stores in Duluth, and I ended up talking with the yard manager. They've been having trouble finding someone competent to drive a forklift, and if I transferred up there, they'd give me a raise and make me an assistant manager. He said I could start working up there in two weeks." All of these individual facts were technically true, but it still felt like lying. "Good for you! It's great to have in-demand skills. That's a long way to drive though." "Yeah, it would be like, five hours of driving every day." "Did you look into getting an apartment up there?" Mom folded up the newspaper and gave me her undivided attention. "After the school year starts, there's literally nothing cheap available." "Where would you stay then?" She asked, looking concerned. "Well, on the way home, I was thinking about who I know that lives up there. Rob lives in a dorm, so I couldn't get away with staying there long-term. But then I remembered that Melissa lives in Duluth, I could maybe call her and see if she wants a roommate." Okay, this last bit was a lie. I didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done. "Our Melissa? Have you called her yet?" "Not yet. I'm pretty sure I have her number in my phone." "You should figure this out sooner rather than later." She looked at the clock. "It's not too late, give her a call now." I made a show of finding Melissa's number as if I hadn't memorized it weeks ago. Melissa and I had rehearsed this moment. I had the volume on my phone turned way up, so my mom was sure to hear Melissa's side of the conversation too. "Hello?" Melissa's angelic voice asked after three rings. "Hi Melissa, it's Charles." "Charles! It's good to hear from you! What's up?" "Well, I'm going to be transferring up there for work, and I was wondering if you would mind having me as a roommate until I found a place of my own." Another necessary lie. "Yeah, I guess that would be okay. You're not going to find anywhere else to stay until the end of the school year. Even then, I was lucky to get this place, this spring." "So, you're okay with me staying with you?" "Yeah, it'll be fun. Like staying at the cabin, but I don't think my landlord would approve of campfires." "I'll pay half the rent, and utilities, and everything." "Naturally," Melissa said. "I was going to ask one of my friends if they wanted to move in. Only paying half the rent will make saving for school a lot easier." "Cool. So, I guess I'll give you a call tomorrow, and we can figure out the details?" "Yeah, okay." "I'm talking with my mom right now, so I should probably let you go." "Hi Mom!" Melissa yelled. "Hi, Melissa," Mom replied, loud enough to be sure that the phone picked it up. "Talk to you tomorrow, bye!" Melissa said, much quieter this time. "Bye." I had to be very careful not to reflexively say I love you. I put my phone away and noticed that my mom was studying me with a funny little smile on her face. Then in the most casual tone, she asked. "So, does she love you as much as you love her?" My heart nearly stopped. I couldn't respond. "That was a lovely charade. Unnecessary, but lovely." I couldn't speak. My brain frantically searched for words but found only shocked silence. "Oh, honey." She began, in a soothing motherly voice. "You're my baby. Did you think I wouldn't know? It was plain to see at the cabin that you two are in love. You spent the weekend with her?" I forced myself to reply. "Yes," I said, fearing that it was all over. I felt like crying. "Good," Mom said simply. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom knew about me and Melissa, and she was... Happy for me? "So, you're not mad about us?" "Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let go." My tears came then, flowing hard as I released all my pent-up fears and anxiety. Mom held me as I cried on her shoulder. She gently rubbed my back like she used to do when I was a kid. When my crying subsided, she held my shoulders at arm's length. "Now, tell me about her." I did. In the conversation that followed, I was more honest and open about my feelings than I could remember being to anyone other than Melissa. I explained how we knew what each other was thinking or feeling, just by looking into each other's eyes. I told her how I wanted to improve myself, to be a better person for Melissa. And, looking back on it with a touch of horror, I did my best to explain the connection I felt with Melissa when we made love. Throughout it all, my mother was nothing but caring and understanding. After all the fear of this moment, it was surreal. It felt so good, so liberating to tell her how I felt about Melissa. When I was done, I asked Mom. "Does Dad know?" "Oh, I doubt he picked up on it." "Are you going to tell him?" Of all the people in the family, I was sure that Dad would be the least likely to accept. He had always been very traditional. Kind and gentle, but with a very strict moral compass. "Of course. He's my husband. The way you feel about Melissa, I feel about him." She hugged me again. "Don't be ashamed. Love her with all your heart, and everything else will work itself out." She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her too, and said goodnight. I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and called Melissa. "What's up?" She answered. "I didn't think I'd hear from you until tomorrow." Deciding to just be direct about it, I said. "My mother has officially given us her blessing." The line was silent as Melissa processed this. When she spoke, I could tell that she was crying. "How did she find out?" She asked. I recounted the whole conversation. "See? I told you your mom was the best." "She really is." "So, what now?" She asked, with a bit of anxiety. "She said that she had to tell everyone because it's better to have it out in the open than have to keep lying to the family. I agreed." After a short pause, Melissa said. "Me too." As it turns out, my family's reaction was both better than I had feared and worse than I had hoped. My parents had called a family meeting and all of my immediate family, and their spouses, showed up. There were those like my mom, and my brother Mark, who were supportive and genuinely happy for me. On the other end of things, there were people like my second older brother, Stephen, and his wife, who were disgusted and called me a pervert. Most were somewhere in the middle, either not understanding and being polite about it, or just ambivalent to the whole issue. Then there was my dad. He just sat there the whole time, with a frown on his face, and never spoke a word. I couldn't tell if he was ashamed, or angry, or what, and it tore me up inside. He had never in his life been shy about voicing his opinion. After my mom, he was who I needed acceptance from the most. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything, but he never did. His silence cut deeper than any insult or accusation ever could. At the beginning, and with prompting from my mom, I had stood before everyone, confessing Melissa's and my love for each other, and that I was moving out to live with her in Duluth. After the initial shock and spectrum of reactions, I sat down and answered questions. Now, not being able to bear my father's silence any longer, I stood again, interrupting several side conversations. I addressed the whole group, but my words were meant for my father more than anyone. "Melissa and I truly love each other. Nothing you do or say can change it. Accept it, accept us, or don't. I don't care." Dad didn't react, didn't even look me in the eyes. I rushed to my room and locked the door. I curled up on my bed and cried, harder than I could remember ever crying before. The stress of the family meeting and my dad's non-reaction had utterly destroyed me. I held a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable sobs, and to hide my face from the world. "What if they're right about you?" A part of my mind asked. "What if you're just a sicko. That's what they all think." "No! I really do love her!" Another part of my mind answered. "What kind of weirdo falls in love with his cousin? What kind of deviant fucks someone in his own family?" "No! Our love is pure and perfect!" "Yeah, perfect. The perfect fantasy of a clinically twisted pervert! You're just taking advantage of a poor broken girl." "No..." I moaned aloud, holding my head in my hands. Sometime after, someone knocked lightly on my bedroom door. I ignored it, lost as I was in terrible contradictory thoughts. The knock came again, and I heard my mom's voice. "Charles, honey. Can I come in?" I didn't respond, knowing that right then I couldn't bear to face anyone, even my mother. "Oh, my baby." She said through the door. "All I want is for you to be happy. Follow your heart, everything will work out. I love you." Her words quieted the thoughts whirling through my mind, and though my sobs faded, the tears continued to flow. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. I closed my eyes and imagined Melissa lying next to me. I thought about how if she were here, she would comfort me, and wipe the tears from my face. I could see her so clearly in my mind, see how her icy blue eyes would pour her inexhaustible love into me. Soon, my tears stopped flowing, and I regained a sense of peace. I felt awful for doubting myself, for doubting Melissa, if even for a moment. Our love is right. It is pure and perfect. She made me complete, as I made her complete. I drifted off to sleep, with a smile on my face, thinking about Melissa, and dreaming about the future. Chapter Eighteen. Charles copes with changes, but the biggest is yet to happen. The armrests of the padded chair where I was seated were a little too high to be comfortable, so I kept my hands folded in my lap. I gazed at the paintings of calm rural scenes hung on the walls of the spacious office. I wondered absently if they were real places or just the artist's impression of idyllic country life. I glanced at the woman in the matching chair positioned across from me. She was patiently waiting for me to continue my story, with an encouraging expression on her face. "I moved my things into Melissa's apartment a few days later and spent the night with her a couple of times when I had the day off. After the two weeks were up, I started work at the Duluth store and lived with her from then on. I think the only word to describe the years that followed is heavenly. I wouldn't have changed a single thing." "Tell me more about how your family reacted," said the woman, Dr. Clarke. "Did your father and brother ever come around?" "Dad? Yeah, he just needed a little time to process it. After that, he was as good with it as Mom was. The thing with him was, years before, before anyone knew what had been going on with Melissa's dad, he'd known that something was wrong. I'm not sure how, but he knew. After Melissa left home, he would call and check in on her. He paid to have her car fixed and even paid the deposit on her apartment. He always went out of his way to make her feel like she had people that cared. I think he loved her as if she were his own daughter, so the whole thing with the two of us was kind of a shock. When Melissa and I went to my parent's place for Thanksgiving, later that month; and he saw firsthand how happy she was, it wasn't an issue." "And your brother, Stephen?" Dr. Clarke prompted. "That same Thanksgiving, I ended up knocking him down with a punch to the face. He said that Melissa's family were all degenerates and that Melissa was just bringing that degeneracy to our family now. That was the last time I ever saw him." I forced my clenched fists to relax and laid my palms flat on my thighs. "Have you ever thought about reaching out to him? People can change a lot in twenty-four years." "No," I said firmly. "It was his choice to ostracize himself from our family, and I want nothing to do with someone capable of being so deliberately malicious. He knew that she was just beginning to heal the trauma that had been done to her; and had said what he did, specifically to hurt her. Someone capable of doing that will always be capable of doing it." "You might be surprised by how much people can change," She said, as she scribbled a few lines in her notepad. "Maybe," I said, brows furrowing. Those words had made their way into Melissa's nightmares. My fists clenched again, as I remembered all the times I was awoken in the middle of the night by her sobs. I remembered how helpless I felt, being able to do nothing but console her; and hold her until she fell back asleep. My knuckles were white, and my fists trembled slightly. I saw Dr. Clarke glance down at my hands, but she did not indicate what she was thinking. Therapists must make superb poker players. "Some things just can't be forgiven," I said quietly, forcing my hands to relax. "Again, you might be surprised. We can talk more about that next week." She set aside her notepad and glanced up at the clock on the wall behind me. "Now close your eyes, and concentrate on your breathing. Take a slow deep breath, imagining all your negative emotions as a tangible thing. Now breathe out slowly as all those emotions evaporate and exit your body like smoke. Again, deep inhale, and out. Good. Feel your mind become still as your breath carries away the pain. Once more, in, and out. Good." For some reason, this technique worked for me. If left alone, my thoughts naturally gravitated to the bad memories, and each one brought two more with it until I became overwhelmed. I would become mentally gridlocked to the point of not being able to function in everyday life. "When I say the word joy, what is the first thing that pops into your mind?" My eyes were still closed, and I smiled. "Melissa's face when she first saw me that October weekend reunion, at the cabin." "Good. Keep up your breathing exercise. All the pain is gone, only the joy remains. Describe the scene for me. What else do you see? What do you smell and hear?" A single tear rolled down my cheek. I'm not sure why I started to cry, whether it was joy in the image of her, so happy and full of promise for the future, or sorrow because that future is gone. I would never again see her smile. "Sunbeams cut down through the trees, lighting up smoke drifting from the fire pit. She passes through one, and her hair glows like golden fire. I smell the white pines, strong in the soft breeze, and the smell of burning oak. A loon call echoes up from the lake, and all around the cabin yard, there is the quiet burble of conversations and laughter." I wiped the tears from my face with a flannel shirt sleeve and looked away from Dr. Clarke. I still felt embarrassed to cry in front of another person. "That sounds lovely. Hold on to that moment, use it as a refuge." She glanced at the clock again and stood. I stood as well, taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table to dry my eyes. She walked me to her office door. "Thank you for sharing today, Charles. I think you are doing very well." As she opened the door, she asked. "Have you gone to the aromatherapy shop we talked about last week?" "No," I said dejectedly. "I was going to, but..." I had meant to go, but sometimes certain things were just impossible to make myself do. Going into an unfamiliar place and talking to a stranger was one of those things. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. This hadn't been a particularly good week, and the thought of talking to someone new, someone who would ask questions about why I was there, questions that would bring up painful memories, was simply unthinkable. Yesterday, I had made it all the way to my car and had the key in the ignition, but then I just sat there, unable to make myself go through with it. "That's ok." Said Dr. Clarke. I knew she knew why I didn't go, and I had gotten to the point where I felt safe sharing my feelings with her, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of shame. "Addy is very good at what she does, and she has helped many of my clients. She's a friend." I nodded and started moving through the doorway. Ending conversations always seemed so awkward. I never knew what to say. "Thank you for being so open today, Charles. See you again next week." She was looking at my eyes, and I met her gaze briefly before looking away. In recent years, I had become very uncomfortable making anything more than the briefest of eye contact with people, especially women, so I was usually at a huge disadvantage when it came to reading people's motivations and emotions. In that brief glimpse though, I caught the impression of empathy and a real desire to help. It felt really good to know that someone cared. I gave her a genuine smile and left. I left her office with the intention of going directly to the shop she had recommended, but by the time I was in my car, I just... couldn't. This is what my life had become. I could go from being on the verge of drowning in a sea of sorrow to feeling positive and optimistic in an instant, then back just as fast. But mostly, it was what I called 'the gray'. I am self-aware enough to understand how it began. Instead of dealing with certain traumatic events, my brain decided that it was easier and far less painful, just to push them aside. The problem is, that those things don't just go away. No matter how hard you push them down, they keep bubbling back up, and you end up pushing everything away in the effort. Then one day you realize that living in the gray was the only way to survive because every little bit of emotion, good or bad, could open the gates and let all the pain come rushing in. I had pushed everything and everyone aside for the sake of self-preservation, and it was killing me. I knew I needed help. I knew that the person I was, wasn't really me. The problem was, I had been in the gray so long, that I couldn't remember how it was before, not really. I knew that I had been happy once, that I had hopes and dreams. But that was all gone, lost in the gray. Chapter Nineteen. The next day turned out to be one of the good ones. I was able to get myself out of bed, dressed, and in the car. I decided that I would finally make it to this aromatherapy shop Dr. Clarke wanted me to go to. I turned the key in the ignition, and my geriatric Honda Civic purred to life. I quickly released the emergency brake and shifted into reverse. I backed out of my parking spot with a sigh. There, I did it. The hard part was over, and now that I had started the task, it would be easier to go through with it. Don't ask me why that makes sense, I wouldn't know how to even start explaining. I enjoyed my drive across town. It was a beautiful day in Duluth. Down near Lake Superior, it was a little breezy and a comfortable 65 degrees, perfect for driving with the windows down. Climbing the hill on 194, the farther I got away from the lake, the hotter it got. By the time I got to the shop, it was nearly 80 degrees, and I had begun to sweat. A typical July day in the Twin Ports. I've always said, that this was one of the things I loved most about living in Duluth. It could be hot as hell up on top of the hill, but if the wind was right, it was always cool near the lake. I shut the car off and set the E brake. I wiped a bit of sweat off my brow, and it occurred to me that I was wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and that I hadn't showered. Hit with a sudden wave of shame and embarrassment about meeting someone new in this state, I almost just left to go back home. With an effort of willpower, I opened the car door and stepped out. Task begun. I walked in and was greeted by a smiling older lady that I assumed was Addy. "Hi, um, Dr. Clarke sent me." Addy's smile widened. "Oh, come in, come in. I'm Addy." "I'm Charles," I replied, meeting her eyes for the briefest moment. "Pleased to meet you, Charles. How is Rose doing these days?" Dr. Clarke's first name was Virginia. She had grown up in Virginia, Minnesota, and I think she was still annoyed by her unimaginative parents, because she liked to use her middle name, Rose. I almost exclusively used 'Dr. Clarke' when speaking with or about her. "I've been seeing her for a couple of months now. She's nice." I never seemed to know how to answer questions like that. I grimaced inwardly at my awkwardness. "She's a sweetheart, and good at her job. I saw her for years." She led me over to a glass counter filled with hundreds of small labeled bottles. "So, are we looking for something to help you relax?" "Something to help me remember." I paused briefly, trying to find the right words. "Well, remembering isn't the issue." I felt a rush of awkwardness and a little bit of embarrassment in talking about something so personal with a stranger. My cheeks flushed, and I looked at the bottles in the case to ensure I didn't accidentally make eye contact. "I want to be able to focus on just the one thing." "Tell me about it." I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "There's smoke from the campfire, mostly oak. Maybe a tiny bit of something acrid, like someone had thrown a plastic plate in the fire." As I spoke, I could hear Addy selecting a few bottles from a rack within the display case. "Pine trees. Even with the smoke, the pines smell strong." "Spruce?" Addy asked politely. "No, White Pine. The needles and sap are everywhere." "Anything else?" I took another deep breath but didn't reply. "Sometimes there's things around us that have a scent, but we're either too used to it, or its faint enough that we don't remember without smelling it. What else was there? Is this a campground?" Addy asked in what I recognized as being in a deliberately unobtrusive way. "It's a cabin," I replied, searching the mental image for things that may have a scent. "It's an old log cabin, surrounded by white pines. There's a log pile. My brother had been using the chainsaw earlier. My truck is parked in the driveway, it smells like gas because the tank leaks a little bit. Someone had mowed the little patch of grass in front of the cabin." "Is there anyone there, wearing perfume or aftershave?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. Addy gave me time to answer. "She..." I struggled to find words to describe Melissa's scent. How do you describe such a thing to someone? How do you describe a sunset to a blind person, or describe to a deaf person the emotions evoked by the Moonlight Sonata? She smelled like love, and I still smell her on the clothes I keep in her dresser. "You know how strawberry plants don't smell like strawberry? Not like the fake strawberry candy scent?" Of course, she did, but I went on. "A strawberry blossom. Delicate, faint, with just the promise of sweetness." "She was someone special," Addy said, in more of a statement than a question. "I ended up marrying her. She;" A tear rolled down my cheek. "Nine years ago;" I just couldn't force the words out of my mouth. I could tell Addy the exact date and time. I could tell her that we had just gone to see The Martian in the movie theater and that the night was clear and cool after the late August thunderstorm earlier that afternoon. I could tell her what song was playing on the radio. I could tell her the look on Melissa's face when the headlights crossed through the median in front of us. What I couldn't say, was physically unable to, was that nine years ago, Melissa died. "It's okay, dear," Addy said. She had a grandmotherly voice, full of kindness and understanding. For the briefest of moments, the power of that gentle voice made me believe that yes, everything would be okay. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll have something for you to try." I nodded and wandered away from the counter, absently browsing the candles and incense as I tried to compose myself. As I looked through the shop it occurred to me how posh the place seemed. High-dollar products are meant to be sold to people who have the luxury of ignoring price tags. I did not have that luxury. I felt anxiety and a general shame of the complete fuck up I had become. If this costs more than about forty dollars, I wouldn't be able to afford groceries this week. "Charles, it's ready," Addy called from the other side of the store. I walked over and closed my eyes as she extended a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid. I breathed deeply and conjured the scene in my mind. The scent of Addy's mixture hit me like a lightning bolt. It was like reading a book in the dark, and then someone turned on the lights. Everything came into sharp focus like I was there. The smoke, the pines, and, My breath caught in my throat. Buried deep within the mix there was something light, something so tenuous you hardly knew it was there. It was Melissa. In my mind, she threw herself into my arms, and I could smell her. I could smell her. "How?" I asked, looking her in the eyes for the first time since my initial glance. Addy smiled warmly, and I could see genuine care in her face, not just the politeness of a shop owner to a customer. "If she had been wearing perfume, it would have been harder. We remember scents much better than we think we do. Sometimes all we need is a little hint, and it's brought right to the front." Dr. Clarke was right, Addy was good. "Your idea about the strawberry flowers was good. They're very faint and don't smell like much at all, definitely not strawberries. But when you know that you have strawberry flowers, and you smell them, your brain brings up the memory of strawberries. Scents are all connected in our minds, and are rooted deep down at the very foundation of memory." Addy put a rubber stopper in the bottle and carefully placed the bottle in a velvet pouch with her shop's logo on it. She held it out for me to take. A tear dripped off my jaw, and I quickly wiped my face on a sleeve. "How much?" I started to ask, again acutely aware of my wrinkled clothes, my general lack of personal hygiene, and the depressingly small balance of my bank account. Addy cut me off with a raised hand. "Rose is a friend of mine, and any friend of hers is also a friend of mine." She pushed the velvet bag into my hands. "No, I can't;" Addy stopped me again. "Most of my clients just want something that smells nice in their bathroom, or to cover the smell of weed. I'm perfectly happy to take their money." She placed her hands on mine, still clutching the velvet bag. "It's very rare that I get to help someone. Take it as a gift, with my thanks." I was speechless, and fresh tears rolled down my face. I couldn't remember the last time someone was so altruistically kind to me. "Thank you." Was all I could say. To be continued in part 6. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts, for Literotica.

Cabin Cousins: Part 5 The Gales of November. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections. "Hmm" Melissa said, her face still buried in the pillow. She shifted and turned her head, and I moved to her side with one arm and a leg still draped over so we could look into each other's eyes. "Wow. That was..." She sighed. "...Wonderful." I smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." She squinted at me. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming, and you're just a figment of my imagination?" She said playfully, though I could tell there was something serious behind the question. "I'm real, and I'm right here, in your bed, and I love you." She searched my eyes for a moment, rolled onto her side, and pulled me in close, kissing me deeply. When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, she whispered. "It's our bed, and I love you too." We held each other in silence for a long while. I knew that she had something else to say, but I didn't push her. Eventually, she broke the silence. "Do you want pancakes? I want pancakes." Not exactly the soul-baring statement I was expecting, but now that she had said it, by damn I wanted pancakes. "I'll help." I had made pancakes exactly once before, and it wasn't a complete disaster, so I felt that my inclusion in the process wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. She got a distant look in her eye, then rolled onto her back, and covered her face with her hands with a groan. "I don't have any pancake mix." She peeked at me through her fingers and we both started laughing. I'm not sure why but we both found it hilarious but we roared with laughter. I playfully pushed her towards the side of the bed. "Well, get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast." Still laughing, she got up and opened a dresser drawer. Stepping into a pair of light blue panties, she asked. "Are you getting dressed too, or are you going to go like that?" "I'm thinking about it." I quipped, eyes following her every movement. I loved watching her move. She had a litheness and grace to her. Cat-like? No, that's not quite right. Amazonian? Maybe, but that implies a stature and bulk that Melissa didn't have. She was fit, not body builder muscular, and she wasn't particularly tall, just shy of my own five foot ten. She was perfect, and my eyes couldn't get enough of her. Let's leave it at that. "You'll give the old ladies at Perkins quite a shock." She shot back, still laughing. With an exaggerated sigh, I rolled off the bed. "For the sake of the old ladies, fine, I'll get dressed." Chapter Sixteen. The plate clinked as Melissa set down her fork. "Ugh. I ate too much, but that really hit the spot." She had attacked her "tremendous twelve" meal with murderous intent. All that remained was a scrap of crust from a piece of toast, and some maple syrup residue on an otherwise clean plate. She had even swiped a strip of bacon off of my plate, an act that left fork marks on my brother's hands on several occasions. I looked at my plate, with its pile of hash browns and a third of a stack of pancakes remaining, and set down my fork. "I guess I didn't work up as much of an appetite as you, cause I'm stuffed too." Melissa looked at me with her special smile and mischievous eyes. "Well, you'll have to try harder next time." "I need to work out more." "I can help with that." She replied, and we both giggled, knowing the truth of it. "Let's start with a walk." We left the Perkins restaurant, and with Melissa navigating, we drove north out of Duluth on Hwy 61. We pulled off and parked where a little river crossed under the road and spilled through a steep set of rocky rapids to Lake Superior below. We hiked down a little trail, and she led me out onto one of the big rocks. The scenery was spectacular, and the water rushing past the rocks had a hypnotic quality. It hadn't snowed last night, but the wind was blowing hard off the lake, and the constant mist from the rapids gave the crisp early November air some real bite. We sat for a while without speaking. Just two people holding hands, taking in the scenery and the roar of the water. There was a Gordon Lightfoot song that had something about the gales of November, how did it go? "When I left home," Melissa began, just loud enough to hear. I turned and watched her, careful to hear what she was saying over the noise of the rapids. I had been hoping for, and dreading this moment, when she decided to get the details of her past out in the open. I resolved to not interrupt and to let her tell it at her own pace. "This was the first place I went." She continued. "I didn't know where to go. I didn't have anywhere to go." She sniffed. We were alone but had someone been watching, her running nose and the tears on her cheek might have been assumed to have been caused by the cold, but I knew differently. I could see the deep down hurt that was welling up, and my heart ached. I squeezed her hand, and let her talk. "Every night for two weeks, I'd leave school, then go up the hill to the mall and sit in the food court to do my homework. When the mall closed, I came here, and parked for the night right over there." She pointed up to the little parking lot where my truck was. "I'd wake up, scrape the snow and frost off the windows, and go to school. I didn't tell anyone because then I'd have to explain why I was sleeping in a car in February. I had friends, but not close friends, you know? Like, not the kind of friends that I could talk to about..." She trailed off and wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve. "I had been lucky, it hadn't been as cold as it should have been, but then one night it got very cold. When I left the mall, I knew if I spent the night here again, I could be in serious danger. So I went to the laundromat. There was never anyone in there in the middle of the night, so I sat at one of the tables and fell asleep. The owner woke me up a couple of hours later, yelling at me that I couldn't sleep there, so I got in my car and came back here." She had been looking at the water as she spoke, but now turned and looked at me. I saw the fear and shame these memories invoked. I wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but I knew that I should let her say what she needed to say, so I let her continue. "When I went to sleep on the back seat, I didn't think I was going to ever wake up, and I was okay with that. I didn't care that I was going to die. Nobody cared, nobody would miss me. The world would be better off without one more stupid girl. Why bother going on?" She looked away from me, east towards the vast lake, and her face twisted up in anger. "You know, the worst thing, the worst part of all of it, is they made me feel like it was all my fault. They had me so twisted up, that I believed that I was the cause of everything that happened." She turned back to me, the anger fading, leaving just a profound sadness. I wiped the tears from her cheek, and she leaned her shoulder against me. "Did your parents tell you what happened?" My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard before replying. "They were vague." She gave a little smile that was like a sunbeam on a stormy day. "I asked your mom and dad not to tell anyone. You're so lucky to have them." She looked back to the lake and spoke quietly enough that if her face had not been right next to mine, I wouldn't have been able to hear her. "When I was fifteen, when I started looking more like a woman, and less like a little girl, my dad started abusing me. Mom, she was drunk more than she was sober. She knew, she had to know, and she didn't do anything." As the River roared in its ceaseless path to Lake Superior, and the cold wind whistled and rattled through the leafless trees, Melissa spoke of abuse and divorce, lost jobs and social status, the failing of the system to help a girl who was too scared to ask for help and the blame that was assigned for all of it. "So that night, I remember when the state trooper knocked on my window." She gave a brief mirthless huff. "I thought he was an angel, with the way his flashlight lit up the frost on the inside of the window. I thought I was dead, that it was all over. I felt relieved." She shook her head. "The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed, wrapped in electric blankets, and seeing the sunrise through the window. That trooper was there. He had stayed with me, way past the end of his shift, just to make sure I was alright. Turns out, when they went to my parent's house to see what was going on, my dad was out of town, and my mom ended up getting arrested for assaulting an officer and having a bunch of heroin. That's why she went back to him. Not for me, but for the money to buy her drugs. The trooper persuaded me to reach out to my friends. He said that people can be capable of unexpected acts of kindness, and I decided to believe him. So I called Ashley. We had always gotten along pretty well, and her parents were always super nice to me. They let me stay with them, which was really awkward at first. I just couldn't believe that a family could be so, so perfect. It was like stepping into an old sitcom. Maybe there was a little trouble now and then, but everyone loved each other, and it all worked out in the end. It was surreal, but eventually, I started believing that it was how families should be. That it was right and good, and normal." She looked me in the eyes then, and I saw her love burning through the hurt. "I didn't think that I would ever have that. I thought that there was no way I could ever open up and let someone love me, to be me, to be normal. Who could want me? Then your parents invited me back to the cabin, and I grasped onto a foolish hope that maybe you could. Ever since it's just been, It just doesn't seem real. Charles, I know you love me, but I'm still so afraid." I silenced her with a quick kiss on the lips. I held her cold, rosy cheeks in my hands and looked her in the eyes. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" Fresh tears streamed down her face, not tears of remembered pain, but tears of joyful love. She threw her arms around me and we held each other tight. Overhead, a hawk called, adding its little part to the scene of wind, water, and young lovers. Chapter Seventeen. Getting in my truck and leaving Duluth that evening was the hardest thing I had ever done. The only thing that gave me the strength to leave was the knowledge that it was only temporary. Soon, very soon, I would never have to leave her again. When I got home, Mom was at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. She greeted me with a smile. I had to be very careful with how I was going to handle this conversation. I didn't want to lie to my mom, but I also didn't want to tell her the whole truth. "How was your weekend? I didn't get a call from the cops, so it couldn't have been too exciting." "I was the cop! We went to a Halloween party dressed as the Village People." "Fun!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a beaming smile. "Yeah, and something else happened. Do you know how I can get my employee discount at any store? Well, we stopped at one of the stores in Duluth, and I ended up talking with the yard manager. They've been having trouble finding someone competent to drive a forklift, and if I transferred up there, they'd give me a raise and make me an assistant manager. He said I could start working up there in two weeks." All of these individual facts were technically true, but it still felt like lying. "Good for you! It's great to have in-demand skills. That's a long way to drive though." "Yeah, it would be like, five hours of driving every day." "Did you look into getting an apartment up there?" Mom folded up the newspaper and gave me her undivided attention. "After the school year starts, there's literally nothing cheap available." "Where would you stay then?" She asked, looking concerned. "Well, on the way home, I was thinking about who I know that lives up there. Rob lives in a dorm, so I couldn't get away with staying there long-term. But then I remembered that Melissa lives in Duluth, I could maybe call her and see if she wants a roommate." Okay, this last bit was a lie. I didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done. "Our Melissa? Have you called her yet?" "Not yet. I'm pretty sure I have her number in my phone." "You should figure this out sooner rather than later." She looked at the clock. "It's not too late, give her a call now." I made a show of finding Melissa's number as if I hadn't memorized it weeks ago. Melissa and I had rehearsed this moment. I had the volume on my phone turned way up, so my mom was sure to hear Melissa's side of the conversation too. "Hello?" Melissa's angelic voice asked after three rings. "Hi Melissa, it's Charles." "Charles! It's good to hear from you! What's up?" "Well, I'm going to be transferring up there for work, and I was wondering if you would mind having me as a roommate until I found a place of my own." Another necessary lie. "Yeah, I guess that would be okay. You're not going to find anywhere else to stay until the end of the school year. Even then, I was lucky to get this place, this spring." "So, you're okay with me staying with you?" "Yeah, it'll be fun. Like staying at the cabin, but I don't think my landlord would approve of campfires." "I'll pay half the rent, and utilities, and everything." "Naturally," Melissa said. "I was going to ask one of my friends if they wanted to move in. Only paying half the rent will make saving for school a lot easier." "Cool. So, I guess I'll give you a call tomorrow, and we can figure out the details?" "Yeah, okay." "I'm talking with my mom right now, so I should probably let you go." "Hi Mom!" Melissa yelled. "Hi, Melissa," Mom replied, loud enough to be sure that the phone picked it up. "Talk to you tomorrow, bye!" Melissa said, much quieter this time. "Bye." I had to be very careful not to reflexively say I love you. I put my phone away and noticed that my mom was studying me with a funny little smile on her face. Then in the most casual tone, she asked. "So, does she love you as much as you love her?" My heart nearly stopped. I couldn't respond. "That was a lovely charade. Unnecessary, but lovely." I couldn't speak. My brain frantically searched for words but found only shocked silence. "Oh, honey." She began, in a soothing motherly voice. "You're my baby. Did you think I wouldn't know? It was plain to see at the cabin that you two are in love. You spent the weekend with her?" I forced myself to reply. "Yes," I said, fearing that it was all over. I felt like crying. "Good," Mom said simply. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom knew about me and Melissa, and she was... Happy for me? "So, you're not mad about us?" "Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let go." My tears came then, flowing hard as I released all my pent-up fears and anxiety. Mom held me as I cried on her shoulder. She gently rubbed my back like she used to do when I was a kid. When my crying subsided, she held my shoulders at arm's length. "Now, tell me about her." I did. In the conversation that followed, I was more honest and open about my feelings than I could remember being to anyone other than Melissa. I explained how we knew what each other was thinking or feeling, just by looking into each other's eyes. I told her how I wanted to improve myself, to be a better person for Melissa. And, looking back on it with a touch of horror, I did my best to explain the connection I felt with Melissa when we made love. Throughout it all, my mother was nothing but caring and understanding. After all the fear of this moment, it was surreal. It felt so good, so liberating to tell her how I felt about Melissa. When I was done, I asked Mom. "Does Dad know?" "Oh, I doubt he picked up on it." "Are you going to tell him?" Of all the people in the family, I was sure that Dad would be the least likely to accept. He had always been very traditional. Kind and gentle, but with a very strict moral compass. "Of course. He's my husband. The way you feel about Melissa, I feel about him." She hugged me again. "Don't be ashamed. Love her with all your heart, and everything else will work itself out." She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her too, and said goodnight. I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and called Melissa. "What's up?" She answered. "I didn't think I'd hear from you until tomorrow." Deciding to just be direct about it, I said. "My mother has officially given us her blessing." The line was silent as Melissa processed this. When she spoke, I could tell that she was crying. "How did she find out?" She asked. I recounted the whole conversation. "See? I told you your mom was the best." "She really is." "So, what now?" She asked, with a bit of anxiety. "She said that she had to tell everyone because it's better to have it out in the open than have to keep lying to the family. I agreed." After a short pause, Melissa said. "Me too." As it turns out, my family's reaction was both better than I had feared and worse than I had hoped. My parents had called a family meeting and all of my immediate family, and their spouses, showed up. There were those like my mom, and my brother Mark, who were supportive and genuinely happy for me. On the other end of things, there were people like my second older brother, Stephen, and his wife, who were disgusted and called me a pervert. Most were somewhere in the middle, either not understanding and being polite about it, or just ambivalent to the whole issue. Then there was my dad. He just sat there the whole time, with a frown on his face, and never spoke a word. I couldn't tell if he was ashamed, or angry, or what, and it tore me up inside. He had never in his life been shy about voicing his opinion. After my mom, he was who I needed acceptance from the most. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything, but he never did. His silence cut deeper than any insult or accusation ever could. At the beginning, and with prompting from my mom, I had stood before everyone, confessing Melissa's and my love for each other, and that I was moving out to live with her in Duluth. After the initial shock and spectrum of reactions, I sat down and answered questions. Now, not being able to bear my father's silence any longer, I stood again, interrupting several side conversations. I addressed the whole group, but my words were meant for my father more than anyone. "Melissa and I truly love each other. Nothing you do or say can change it. Accept it, accept us, or don't. I don't care." Dad didn't react, didn't even look me in the eyes. I rushed to my room and locked the door. I curled up on my bed and cried, harder than I could remember ever crying before. The stress of the family meeting and my dad's non-reaction had utterly destroyed me. I held a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable sobs, and to hide my face from the world. "What if they're right about you?" A part of my mind asked. "What if you're just a sicko. That's what they all think." "No! I really do love her!" Another part of my mind answered. "What kind of weirdo falls in love with his cousin? What kind of deviant fucks someone in his own family?" "No! Our love is pure and perfect!" "Yeah, perfect. The perfect fantasy of a clinically twisted pervert! You're just taking advantage of a poor broken girl." "No..." I moaned aloud, holding my head in my hands. Sometime after, someone knocked lightly on my bedroom door. I ignored it, lost as I was in terrible contradictory thoughts. The knock came again, and I heard my mom's voice. "Charles, honey. Can I come in?" I didn't respond, knowing that right then I couldn't bear to face anyone, even my mother. "Oh, my baby." She said through the door. "All I want is for you to be happy. Follow your heart, everything will work out. I love you." Her words quieted the thoughts whirling through my mind, and though my sobs faded, the tears continued to flow. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. I closed my eyes and imagined Melissa lying next to me. I thought about how if she were here, she would comfort me, and wipe the tears from my face. I could see her so clearly in my mind, see how her icy blue eyes would pour her inexhaustible love into me. Soon, my tears stopped flowing, and I regained a sense of peace. I felt awful for doubting myself, for doubting Melissa, if even for a moment. Our love is right. It is pure and perfect. She made me complete, as I made her complete. I drifted off to sleep, with a smile on my face, thinking about Melissa, and dreaming about the future. Chapter Eighteen. Charles copes with changes, but the biggest is yet to happen. The armrests of the padded chair where I was seated were a little too high to be comfortable, so I kept my hands folded in my lap. I gazed at the paintings of calm rural scenes hung on the walls of the spacious office. I wondered absently if they were real places or just the artist's impression of idyllic country life. I glanced at the woman in the matching chair positioned across from me. She was patiently waiting for me to continue my story, with an encouraging expression on her face. "I moved my things into Melissa's apartment a few days later and spent the night with her a couple of times when I had the day off. After the two weeks were up, I started work at the Duluth store and lived with her from then on. I think the only word to describe the years that followed is heavenly. I wouldn't have changed a single thing." "Tell me more about how your family reacted," said the woman, Dr. Clarke. "Did your father and brother ever come around?" "Dad? Yeah, he just needed a little time to process it. After that, he was as good with it as Mom was. The thing with him was, years before, before anyone knew what had been going on with Melissa's dad, he'd known that something was wrong. I'm not sure how, but he knew. After Melissa left home, he would call and check in on her. He paid to have her car fixed and even paid the deposit on her apartment. He always went out of his way to make her feel like she had people that cared. I think he loved her as if she were his own daughter, so the whole thing with the two of us was kind of a shock. When Melissa and I went to my parent's place for Thanksgiving, later that month; and he saw firsthand how happy she was, it wasn't an issue." "And your brother, Stephen?" Dr. Clarke prompted. "That same Thanksgiving, I ended up knocking him down with a punch to the face. He said that Melissa's family were all degenerates and that Melissa was just bringing that degeneracy to our family now. That was the last time I ever saw him." I forced my clenched fists to relax and laid my palms flat on my thighs. "Have you ever thought about reaching out to him? People can change a lot in twenty-four years." "No," I said firmly. "It was his choice to ostracize himself from our family, and I want nothing to do with someone capable of being so deliberately malicious. He knew that she was just beginning to heal the trauma that had been done to her; and had said what he did, specifically to hurt her. Someone capable of doing that will always be capable of doing it." "You might be surprised by how much people can change," She said, as she scribbled a few lines in her notepad. "Maybe," I said, brows furrowing. Those words had made their way into Melissa's nightmares. My fists clenched again, as I remembered all the times I was awoken in the middle of the night by her sobs. I remembered how helpless I felt, being able to do nothing but console her; and hold her until she fell back asleep. My knuckles were white, and my fists trembled slightly. I saw Dr. Clarke glance down at my hands, but she did not indicate what she was thinking. Therapists must make superb poker players. "Some things just can't be forgiven," I said quietly, forcing my hands to relax. "Again, you might be surprised. We can talk more about that next week." She set aside her notepad and glanced up at the clock on the wall behind me. "Now close your eyes, and concentrate on your breathing. Take a slow deep breath, imagining all your negative emotions as a tangible thing. Now breathe out slowly as all those emotions evaporate and exit your body like smoke. Again, deep inhale, and out. Good. Feel your mind become still as your breath carries away the pain. Once more, in, and out. Good." For some reason, this technique worked for me. If left alone, my thoughts naturally gravitated to the bad memories, and each one brought two more with it until I became overwhelmed. I would become mentally gridlocked to the point of not being able to function in everyday life. "When I say the word joy, what is the first thing that pops into your mind?" My eyes were still closed, and I smiled. "Melissa's face when she first saw me that October weekend reunion, at the cabin." "Good. Keep up your breathing exercise. All the pain is gone, only the joy remains. Describe the scene for me. What else do you see? What do you smell and hear?" A single tear rolled down my cheek. I'm not sure why I started to cry, whether it was joy in the image of her, so happy and full of promise for the future, or sorrow because that future is gone. I would never again see her smile. "Sunbeams cut down through the trees, lighting up smoke drifting from the fire pit. She passes through one, and her hair glows like golden fire. I smell the white pines, strong in the soft breeze, and the smell of burning oak. A loon call echoes up from the lake, and all around the cabin yard, there is the quiet burble of conversations and laughter." I wiped the tears from my face with a flannel shirt sleeve and looked away from Dr. Clarke. I still felt embarrassed to cry in front of another person. "That sounds lovely. Hold on to that moment, use it as a refuge." She glanced at the clock again and stood. I stood as well, taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table to dry my eyes. She walked me to her office door. "Thank you for sharing today, Charles. I think you are doing very well." As she opened the door, she asked. "Have you gone to the aromatherapy shop we talked about last week?" "No," I said dejectedly. "I was going to, but..." I had meant to go, but sometimes certain things were just impossible to make myself do. Going into an unfamiliar place and talking to a stranger was one of those things. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. This hadn't been a particularly good week, and the thought of talking to someone new, someone who would ask questions about why I was there, questions that would bring up painful memories, was simply unthinkable. Yesterday, I had made it all the way to my car and had the key in the ignition, but then I just sat there, unable to make myself go through with it. "That's ok." Said Dr. Clarke. I knew she knew why I didn't go, and I had gotten to the point where I felt safe sharing my feelings with her, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of shame. "Addy is very good at what she does, and she has helped many of my clients. She's a friend." I nodded and started moving through the doorway. Ending conversations always seemed so awkward. I never knew what to say. "Thank you for being so open today, Charles. See you again next week." She was looking at my eyes, and I met her gaze briefly before looking away. In recent years, I had become very uncomfortable making anything more than the briefest of eye contact with people, especially women, so I was usually at a huge disadvantage when it came to reading people's motivations and emotions. In that brief glimpse though, I caught the impression of empathy and a real desire to help. It felt really good to know that someone cared. I gave her a genuine smile and left. I left her office with the intention of going directly to the shop she had recommended, but by the time I was in my car, I just... couldn't. This is what my life had become. I could go from being on the verge of drowning in a sea of sorrow to feeling positive and optimistic in an instant, then back just as fast. But mostly, it was what I called 'the gray'. I am self-aware enough to understand how it began. Instead of dealing with certain traumatic events, my brain decided that it was easier and far less painful, just to push them aside. The problem is, that those things don't just go away. No matter how hard you push them down, they keep bubbling back up, and you end up pushing everything away in the effort. Then one day you realize that living in the gray was the only way to survive because every little bit of emotion, good or bad, could open the gates and let all the pain come rushing in. I had pushed everything and everyone aside for the sake of self-preservation, and it was killing me. I knew I needed help. I knew that the person I was, wasn't really me. The problem was, I had been in the gray so long, that I couldn't remember how it was before, not really. I knew that I had been happy once, that I had hopes and dreams. But that was all gone, lost in the gray. Chapter Nineteen. The next day turned out to be one of the good ones. I was able to get myself out of bed, dressed, and in the car. I decided that I would finally make it to this aromatherapy shop Dr. Clarke wanted me to go to. I turned the key in the ignition, and my geriatric Honda Civic purred to life. I quickly released the emergency brake and shifted into reverse. I backed out of my parking spot with a sigh. There, I did it. The hard part was over, and now that I had started the task, it would be easier to go through with it. Don't ask me why that makes sense, I wouldn't know how to even start explaining. I enjoyed my drive across town. It was a beautiful day in Duluth. Down near Lake Superior, it was a little breezy and a comfortable 65 degrees, perfect for driving with the windows down. Climbing the hill on 194, the farther I got away from the lake, the hotter it got. By the time I got to the shop, it was nearly 80 degrees, and I had begun to sweat. A typical July day in the Twin Ports. I've always said, that this was one of the things I loved most about living in Duluth. It could be hot as hell up on top of the hill, but if the wind was right, it was always cool near the lake. I shut the car off and set the E brake. I wiped a bit of sweat off my brow, and it occurred to me that I was wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and that I hadn't showered. Hit with a sudden wave of shame and embarrassment about meeting someone new in this state, I almost just left to go back home. With an effort of willpower, I opened the car door and stepped out. Task begun. I walked in and was greeted by a smiling older lady that I assumed was Addy. "Hi, um, Dr. Clarke sent me." Addy's smile widened. "Oh, come in, come in. I'm Addy." "I'm Charles," I replied, meeting her eyes for the briefest moment. "Pleased to meet you, Charles. How is Rose doing these days?" Dr. Clarke's first name was Virginia. She had grown up in Virginia, Minnesota, and I think she was still annoyed by her unimaginative parents, because she liked to use her middle name, Rose. I almost exclusively used 'Dr. Clarke' when speaking with or about her. "I've been seeing her for a couple of months now. She's nice." I never seemed to know how to answer questions like that. I grimaced inwardly at my awkwardness. "She's a sweetheart, and good at her job. I saw her for years." She led me over to a glass counter filled with hundreds of small labeled bottles. "So, are we looking for something to help you relax?" "Something to help me remember." I paused briefly, trying to find the right words. "Well, remembering isn't the issue." I felt a rush of awkwardness and a little bit of embarrassment in talking about something so personal with a stranger. My cheeks flushed, and I looked at the bottles in the case to ensure I didn't accidentally make eye contact. "I want to be able to focus on just the one thing." "Tell me about it." I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "There's smoke from the campfire, mostly oak. Maybe a tiny bit of something acrid, like someone had thrown a plastic plate in the fire." As I spoke, I could hear Addy selecting a few bottles from a rack within the display case. "Pine trees. Even with the smoke, the pines smell strong." "Spruce?" Addy asked politely. "No, White Pine. The needles and sap are everywhere." "Anything else?" I took another deep breath but didn't reply. "Sometimes there's things around us that have a scent, but we're either too used to it, or its faint enough that we don't remember without smelling it. What else was there? Is this a campground?" Addy asked in what I recognized as being in a deliberately unobtrusive way. "It's a cabin," I replied, searching the mental image for things that may have a scent. "It's an old log cabin, surrounded by white pines. There's a log pile. My brother had been using the chainsaw earlier. My truck is parked in the driveway, it smells like gas because the tank leaks a little bit. Someone had mowed the little patch of grass in front of the cabin." "Is there anyone there, wearing perfume or aftershave?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. Addy gave me time to answer. "She..." I struggled to find words to describe Melissa's scent. How do you describe such a thing to someone? How do you describe a sunset to a blind person, or describe to a deaf person the emotions evoked by the Moonlight Sonata? She smelled like love, and I still smell her on the clothes I keep in her dresser. "You know how strawberry plants don't smell like strawberry? Not like the fake strawberry candy scent?" Of course, she did, but I went on. "A strawberry blossom. Delicate, faint, with just the promise of sweetness." "She was someone special," Addy said, in more of a statement than a question. "I ended up marrying her. She;" A tear rolled down my cheek. "Nine years ago;" I just couldn't force the words out of my mouth. I could tell Addy the exact date and time. I could tell her that we had just gone to see The Martian in the movie theater and that the night was clear and cool after the late August thunderstorm earlier that afternoon. I could tell her what song was playing on the radio. I could tell her the look on Melissa's face when the headlights crossed through the median in front of us. What I couldn't say, was physically unable to, was that nine years ago, Melissa died. "It's okay, dear," Addy said. She had a grandmotherly voice, full of kindness and understanding. For the briefest of moments, the power of that gentle voice made me believe that yes, everything would be okay. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll have something for you to try." I nodded and wandered away from the counter, absently browsing the candles and incense as I tried to compose myself. As I looked through the shop it occurred to me how posh the place seemed. High-dollar products are meant to be sold to people who have the luxury of ignoring price tags. I did not have that luxury. I felt anxiety and a general shame of the complete fuck up I had become. If this costs more than about forty dollars, I wouldn't be able to afford groceries this week. "Charles, it's ready," Addy called from the other side of the store. I walked over and closed my eyes as she extended a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid. I breathed deeply and conjured the scene in my mind. The scent of Addy's mixture hit me like a lightning bolt. It was like reading a book in the dark, and then someone turned on the lights. Everything came into sharp focus like I was there. The smoke, the pines, and, My breath caught in my throat. Buried deep within the mix there was something light, something so tenuous you hardly knew it was there. It was Melissa. In my mind, she threw herself into my arms, and I could smell her. I could smell her. "How?" I asked, looking her in the eyes for the first time since my initial glance. Addy smiled warmly, and I could see genuine care in her face, not just the politeness of a shop owner to a customer. "If she had been wearing perfume, it would have been harder. We remember scents much better than we think we do. Sometimes all we need is a little hint, and it's brought right to the front." Dr. Clarke was right, Addy was good. "Your idea about the strawberry flowers was good. They're very faint and don't smell like much at all, definitely not strawberries. But when you know that you have strawberry flowers, and you smell them, your brain brings up the memory of strawberries. Scents are all connected in our minds, and are rooted deep down at the very foundation of memory." Addy put a rubber stopper in the bottle and carefully placed the bottle in a velvet pouch with her shop's logo on it. She held it out for me to take. A tear dripped off my jaw, and I quickly wiped my face on a sleeve. "How much?" I started to ask, again acutely aware of my wrinkled clothes, my general lack of personal hygiene, and the depressingly small balance of my bank account. Addy cut me off with a raised hand. "Rose is a friend of mine, and any friend of hers is also a friend of mine." She pushed the velvet bag into my hands. "No, I can't;" Addy stopped me again. "Most of my clients just want something that smells nice in their bathroom, or to cover the smell of weed. I'm perfectly happy to take their money." She placed her hands on mine, still clutching the velvet bag. "It's very rare that I get to help someone. Take it as a gift, with my thanks." I was speechless, and fresh tears rolled down my face. I couldn't remember the last time someone was so altruistically kind to me. "Thank you." Was all I could say. To be continued in part 6. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts, for Literotica.

Superior Mayor Jim Paine will recap Pride Weekend up in the Twin Ports and tell us why the event doesn't take place in June like in many other communities. And we'll recap Labor Day weekend, including the news for thousands upon thousands of American workers who've had their collective bargaining rights ripped away by an anti-union president who sees public sector workers as unworthy of jobsite protection. Mornings with Pat Kreitlow is powered by UpNorthNews, and it airs on several stations across the Civic Media radio network, Monday through Friday from 6-9 am. Subscribe to the podcast to be sure not to miss out on a single episode! To learn more about the show and all of the programming across the Civic Media network, head over to civicmedia.us/shows to see the entire broadcast line up. Follow the show on Facebook, X, and YouTube. Guests: Dan Hagen, Jim Paine

Twin Cities public television, or TPT, is laying off some of its staff. In an email to employees Tuesday, President Sylvia Strobel said, “Due to the loss of federal funding, we have made the decision to reduce our staff.” The email did not say how many people were let go. It said those impacted were notified Tuesday morning and their last day is Wednesday. Last week, Congress approved a recission bill that cut 1.1 billion dollars from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.In Minneapolis, racial justice and police accountability leaders are criticizing city leaders for promoting a police officer who shot and killed a young man during a no-knock raid in 2022. Sgt. Mark Hanneman became a trainer several months after he shock Amir Locke, who was sleeping at an apartment when police burst in.A jury in Minneapolis has convicted two more members of the Highs street gang of racketeering. The men are among more than 100 defendants charged in a federal anti-gang effort.The chair of the Metropolitan Council, a long-time transportation leader in the state, will step down in September. More than a dozen people called for the shutdown of the Hennepin County trash incinerator outside a Hennepin County Board of Commissioners committee meeting Tuesday. State Sen. Nicole Mitchell is due to be sentenced Sept. 10 following her burglary conviction. The first-term DFLer was found guilty on a pair of burglary charges last week. They stemmed from a 2024 break-in at her stepmother's Detroit Lakes home.Hundreds of clinic workers at Essentia Health locations return to work Wednesday after a two-week strike. Nurses at several Twin Ports-area clinics are negotiating their first union contracts and they say Essentia is bargaining too slowly. Essentia has agreed to add more bargaining dates.

More than 15,000 nurses and health care workers across 22 hospitals and clinics in the Twin Cities and Twin Ports have voted to authorize a strike amid contract negotiations. While it doesn't mean a strike will happen, it's one step closer to health care workers going to the picket line. Chris Rubesch is the president of the Minnesota Nurses Association, the union representing the nurses and health care workers involved, and an RN at Essentia Health in Duluth. He joined Minnesota Now to talk about the vote.Minnesota Now reached out to the Twin Cities Hospital Group for an interview, but they were unavailable. They provided this statement:“Today's announcement of a strike vote puts the union's “strike first, patients second” mentality on full display. It is disappointing that the union has chosen this path instead of working collaboratively to find solutions. While today's vote tally does not mean a strike is imminent (a 10-day notice must be provided), if the union decides it is preferable for our nurses to leave their patients at the bedside, our hospitals will be fully prepared to care for patients. As they must be, our teams are focused on concluding these negotiations, reaching a fair settlement, and serving our patients.”

Nurses and health care workers in the Twin Cities and Twin Ports voted this morning to clear the way for a strike. We talk with the union about why they are considering that step and what's changed since their last strike in 2022. The shooter who attacked two Minnesota lawmakers and their spouses in their homes was allegedly dressed as a police officer when he came to their doors. That's raising questions about how officers identify themselves to the public. Plus, the U.S. Supreme Court recently upheld a ban on gender-affirming care in Tennessee. The ruling won't affect Minnesota law, but it could bring more families to the state seeking care. And we meet the host of a radio show that's all about rural Minnesota cooking!Today's Minnesota Music Minute was “Company” by Alica Thao. The Song of the Day was “500 Dollars'“ by the Lamont Cranston Band.

This second biggest story in the Twin Ports, some humans are illegal, there is a good story, wildfire update, a new retail store in town, why MN didn't get a budget deal done, some pot talk too, what did pass, Matt Boo, and more state news...See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Shannon is a Twin Ports runner who started with road half marathon running and racing as a way to be productive with fitness, and has steadily increased her distance focus to several 100-mile finishes and sights set on even longer! Tune in with Mike and Tony to hear about Shannon's running story and experience with ... Read more

Figure out how many lighthouses Lake Superior has total including Michigan's Upper Peninsula's rise to economic stardom following admittance into Union after 1837. Learn everything there is possible about the Apostle Islands including a European Historian who was responsible for giving them their official title. Discover if there are any lighthouses stationed around the Apostle Islands. Learn what year the first lighthouse got lit on Lake Superior's Shores. Discover exactly why Whitefish Point got labeled with an odd title to figuring out how many ships total have met tragic fates. Learn exactly where the Stannard Rock Reef is located and for whom was responsible in discovering an underwater mountain. Agree if Stannard Rock Light is considered to be the farthest of all lighthouses in the U.S. including whether or not the light itself remains in use come present day time. Get an in depth analysis review behind the Twin Ports of Duluth, Minnesota-Superior, Wisconsin, Lake Superior's Westernmost Cities. Go behind the scenes and learn everything about Split Rock Lighthouse from time it was built in 1910 to what had taken place five years earlier come November 1905. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Episode: 3305 An inland shipping port expands our vision of seaports.  Today, an inland seaport.

We're back! Kicking off this season with the one and only Emma Jeanne, a dual citizen artist of the Twin Ports and the Twin Cities and a dual citizen of her solo project and her band Yonder.. Grant and Emma talk about taking every opportunity that comes your way, the differences between performing with bands versus solo, and whatever else pops in their heads along the way. This episode brought to you by Car Concierge and Petrichor Studios.

From MPR News, Art Hounds are members of the Minnesota arts community who look beyond their own work to highlight what's exciting in local art. Their recommendations are lightly edited from the audio heard in the player above. Want to be an Art Hound? Submit here.Authoring and illustrating childhoodArt fan Deborah Bartels of St Paul took a delightful trip The Kerlan, which is one of the premier collections of children's literature, housed in the Elmer L. Anderson Library on the West Bank of the University of Minnesota. Called “Journey to Joy: Rise, Relevance, Representation in Children's Picture Books,” the exhibit is open Monday-Friday 9 a.m. and 5 p.m., with docent-led tours available by appointment each day at 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. Please note: the Kerlan is closed on weekends and from Dec. 21-Jan 1 for the University's holiday break. Deborah describes. the exhibit: The entrance to the exhibit welcomes viewers with life-sized, colorful cut-outs of joyful children doing cartwheels and reaching for the stars. A wall behind is covered floor-to-ceiling with enlargements of the covers of books that have won the Ezra Jack Keats Award.  Displays invite visitors to see the process behind the published award winner: the submitted manuscript, the sketches that evolve into beautiful artwork and the notes of the authors and illustrators. One of the surprising things I learned was that it is the editor who selects the illustrator for a submitted manuscript and that often the writer and artist never meet! “Journey to Joy” is displayed over four floors of the Anderson Library. A short elevator ride to the third floor brings you to the beginning of the exhibit which succinctly illuminates the history of children's picture books, a history which is not always one to celebrate. The exhibit doesn't dwell long on this exclusionary past; it reveals a lesser-known history of positive efforts to represent the diversity of people and cultures and of the awards which encourage and publish more diverse children's literature.  I have long been aware of Newbery and Caldecott Medals which are well-known prizes in children's literature. I knew little about the Ezra Jack Keats Award, which celebrates books that embrace all ethnic and social groups. The ground floor devotes an entire room to feature three indigenous Minnesota artist illustrators:  Jonathan Thunder, Annette S. Lee and Marlena Myles. — Deborah BartelsHealing artsMartin DeWitt, former director and curator of the Tweed Art Museum in Duluth, recommends making time to see the Twin Ports exhibit “Loaded” by Duluth artists Rob Quisling and Jonathan Thunder. It's showing across the High Bridge at the Kruk Gallery Holden Fine Arts Center, University of Wisconsin-Superior through Dec. 20 and by appointment until Jan. 15, 2025. Martin says: The exhibition is truly a collaboration by Quisling and Thunder, featuring a thoughtful and poignant selection by curator Annie Dugan of each artist's diverse artistry that deals directly with their struggles and recovery from alcohol addiction. The exhibition is a powerful testament, not only to the artists' long-term friendship, but also to their unique and powerful creative expression in a variety of media. A dramatic, monumental acrylic painting on canvas by Thunder, smaller oil paintings and intimate prints and drawings by both artists, and a provocative mixed-media art installation by Quisling, fill the Kruk Gallery with inspiration, forthright honesty and beauty. The notion of “Loaded” takes on new meaning, not only as a celebration of the artists' sobriety but also how passion, friendship and creative expression can offer the potential for healing and resolve in this increasingly challenging world. This is an exhibition not to be missed.— Martin DeWittA note before we go From Art Hounds producer Emily Bright: This is the last Art Hounds for 2024, rounding out our 15th anniversary year. Don't worry, we'll be back in January. But before we take a little holiday break, it's worth taking a moment to appreciate what a distinct joy this show is. This year, Art Hounds featured nearly 130 artists and events, from Worthington to Ely, from Fergus Falls to Winona, plus in venues across the Twin Cities metro area.   Artists regularly tell me that folks turned up at their show because they heard about it on Art Hounds.  And the range of shows is just as wide-reaching: visual arts exhibits and stage performances of all kinds. (And even some off-stage: we had not one but two dance performances on or near bodies of water, because that's how we roll in Minnesota.) There were jazz concerts, community quilt projects, art strolls and cabarets, plus art collections at four different colleges.  This is work that sparks conversation about the biggest topics of our day! Shows that make people feel seen. Art that spreads joy.  Thank you to everyone who's been on Art Hounds this year, for taking time to shine a light on someone else's work.  It's not too soon to let me know about the shows you're looking forward to seeing in 2025. Happy holidays, and we'll see you soon. — Emily Bright

Sports on the radio, Danno, Twin Ports interchange project, smoking at school, J-Serv, Bidens failed presidency, be prepared for Christmas City of the North, Chris Dahlberg, and some final rainfall totals...See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This month, Tony and Mike interview local runners, husband and wife Dan and Karey. They both grew up in in the Twin Ports area, moved away, and have relocated in Duluth a few years ago. These two have pretty drastically different stories about how they got into running and racing, and their different styles or ... Read more

November 9, 2024 Hour 2 full Hour 2 begins by tackling NFL Midterms. Biggest surprises in the league? Disappointments? The guys predict some season awards as well. "Magnificent 7 Trivia" is an anniversary special contest where two fans of the show square off with their sports and pop culture knowledge for a chance at gift cards from Hoops Brewing. The Drawing Lines segment closes the show with Vencie Glenn predicting the outcome of a road trip to Jacksonville for the Vikings. 2831 Sat, 09 Nov 2024 17:00:38 +0000 Pxx7Ylg7eTW9WAbT7Mb0CowOHPIvpm12 sports The Northland Sports Page sports November 9, 2024 Hour 2 The Northland Sports Page, hosted by Brian Prudhomme and Dave Cook, dives into the world local sports in the Twin Ports, across the Northland, and in Minnesota and Wisconsin on The Northland FAN 106.5 FM and 560 AM WEBC AM Saturday mornings from 10:00 am to noon. They talk high school sports, local college sports, and professional sports like the Vikings, Packers, Wild, Twins, Brewers, Timberwolves, and Bucks. 2020 Sports False https://player.amperwavepodcasting.com?feed-link=https%3A%2F%2Frss.am

A hefty dose race results came in from around the region over the last handful of weeks as the upcoming race calendar slows down a bit with a pair of 5k races in the Twin Ports area on October 26, and the Gobble Gallop coming up in November. Trail conditions are great, although there are ... Read more

October 19, 2024 - Hour 2 full Voice of the Vikings, Paul Allen, joins us to preview a rare two-game set before we hit the air again. Vencie Glenn talks about maintaining intensity out of a bye and into a short week from his days with the Vikings. Duluth East Girls Soccer assistant coach Cass Wellhouse discusses the soccer dominance by the Greyhounds and multiple Northland teams 2748 Sat, 19 Oct 2024 16:00:50 +0000 cvAB9WrsmrVGZP3h2ms7e2sC1SUonaVe sports The Northland Sports Page sports October 19, 2024 - Hour 2 The Northland Sports Page, hosted by Brian Prudhomme and Dave Cook, dives into the world local sports in the Twin Ports, across the Northland, and in Minnesota and Wisconsin on The Northland FAN 106.5 FM and 560 AM WEBC AM Saturday mornings from 10:00 am to noon. They talk high school sports, local college sports, and professional sports like the Vikings, Packers, Wild, Twins, Brewers, Timberwolves, and Bucks. 2020 Sports False https://player.amperwavepodcasting.com?feed-link=https%3A%2F%2Frss.

Here's a look at the top headlines from around the Northland for Tuesday, Sept. 10, 2024. Stories featured in this episode: Walz to campaign in Superior South Ridge school bus driver seen at bar before DWI arrest Duluth Catholics exhume missionary priest, consider potential sainthood  Northlandia: Gnomes mysteriously appeared in Gilbert yards this summer The Duluth News Tribune Minute is a product of Forum Communications Company and is brought to you by reporters at the Duluth News Tribune, Superior Telegram and Cloquet Pine Journal. Find more news throughout the day at duluthnewstribune.com. If you enjoy this podcast, please consider supporting our work with a subscription at duluthnewstribune.news/podcast. Your support allows us to continue providing the local news and content you want.

Jarrid Houston is catching fish in the estuary. The St. Louis River is cranking out walleyes...even in the "dog days". We get all the details on that, talk a little Lake Superior, and discuss all things fishing in the Twin Ports. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoicesSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Jarrid Houston is catching fish in the estuary. The St. Louis River is cranking out walleyes...even in the "dog days". We get all the details on that, talk a little Lake Superior, and discuss all things fishing in the Twin Ports. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Cabin is presented to you by the Superior-Douglas County Area Chamber of Commerce: https://bit.ly/3Li7M5mCampfire Conversation: Superior-Douglas County boasts a vibrant lifestyle with two major medical systems, St. Luke's and Acentia, ensuring top-notch healthcare. The area offers fantastic higher education opportunities at Northwoods Technical College and the University of Wisconsin-Superior, along with excellent K-12 programs. The industrial sector provides a variety of career opportunities, including shipping, railways, airports, and energy, with notable presence like the Cenovus Superior Refinery. Enjoy cozy Northwoods hospitality with a range of dining options from fine dining to dive bars, offering delicious chicken wings, burgers, and pizza. Discover great boutiques and charming mom-and-pop shops. Experience all four seasons with numerous parks, trails, and camping spots. Highlights include Amnicon Falls State Park, Pattison State Park, Superior Municipal Forest, and Lake Superior. Enjoy activities like disc golf, archery, water sports, hiking, and biking. Join the community for fantastic events such as the Lake Superior Ice Festival, Dragon Boat Festival, Great Northern Classic Rodeo, Head of the Lakes Fair, and East End Family Fun Days. Accommodations range from hotels and Airbnbs to campgrounds, and you can explore the Twin Ports community, including Duluth, MN.

Superior, Wisconsin resident Randy Back has been running in the Duluth area for about 45 years, completing over 100 marathon or longer running races, several Ironman triathlons, and lots of other events in between. Listen in to hear a small sampling of endless stories from being present in the Twin Ports running scene through the ... Read more

Here's a look at the top headlines from around the Northland for Tuesday, April 2, 2024.  The Duluth News Tribune Minute is a product of Forum Communications Company and is brought to you by reporters at the Duluth News Tribune, Superior Telegram and Cloquet Pine Journal. Find more news throughout the day at duluthnewstribune.com. If you enjoy this podcast, please consider supporting our work with a subscription at duluthnewstribune.news/podcast. Your support allows us to continue providing the local news and content you want.

The 2023-24 Minnesota Duluth men's and women's hockey seasons came to a close less than two weeks ago, but the offseason news is only heating up. And we know you have lots of questions about the programs moving forward. The Duluth News Tribune's UMD hockey beat reporter Matt Wellens, Zach Schneider of My 9 Sports and Bruce Ciskie of KDAL get together on a snowy day in the Twin Ports to try and answer those questions from you, the fans, about Blake Biondi, Cole Spicer, Will Francis, Ben Steeves, recruiting, the transfer portal, NIL and the coaching staff. They predict who will captain the Bulldogs in 2024-25 and give a sneak peak of the schedules for next season. This is the second episode of a two-part Season 6 finale. In Part I, the Bulldogs hockey "Insiders" break down what went right and what went wrong for both teams in 2023-24, what to expect in the offseason with recruiting and the transfer portal, and they take a look at what to expect in 2024-25. Bulldog Insider is co-hosted by Matt Wellens and Zach Schneider. Episodes are edited and produced by Duluth News Tribune digital producers Wyatt Buckner and Dan Williamson. You can find more Bulldog hockey coverage at duluthnewstribune.com and more episodes of Bulldog Insider wherever you listen to podcasts.

The 2023-24 Minnesota Duluth men's and women's hockey seasons have come to a close following the UMD women's loss to Ohio State in the NCAA tournament and the Bulldogs men getting swept by Denver in the NCHC quarterfinals. The Duluth News Tribune's UMD hockey beat reporter Matt Wellens, Zach Schneider of My 9 Sports and Bruce Ciskie of KDAL get together on a snowy day in the Twin Ports to break down what went right and what went wrong for both teams in 2023-24, what to expect in the offseason with recruiting and the transfer portal, and they take a look at what to expect in 2024-25. This is the first episode of a two-part Season 6 finale. In Part II, the Bulldogs hockey "Insiders" answer questions from fans about Blake Biondi, Cole Spicer, Will Francis, Ben Steeves, recruiting, the transfer portal, NIL and the coaching staff. Watch for that episode to post in the near future. 0:00-0:34 Essentia Health Sponsor 0:35-1:51 Intro 1:52-26:42 UMD Women's Team Season Overview 26:43-28:12 Ad Break 28:13-47:48 UMD Men's Team Season Overview: What went wrong? 47:49-49:00 Part 2 Preview and Outro Bulldog Insider is co-hosted by Matt Wellens and Zach Schneider. Episodes are edited and produced by Duluth News Tribune digital producers Wyatt Buckner and Dan Williamson. You can find more Bulldog hockey coverage at duluthnewstribune.com and more episodes of Bulldog Insider wherever you listen to podcasts.

A lake effect snow storm struck the Twin Ports, does The Prez have a secret border deal with AMLO, TJ with sound tax advice, why does Brad think a lot of politicians are crooked, George from Zenith Auto Glass, and more...See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Blois Olson was off today, so Aaron Brown, a well known reporter on the ranger, joined Vineeta to discuss some of the hottest political topics up north!

President Joe Biden visits the Twin Ports today to highlight $1 billion in federal funding for a major bridge connecting Minnesota and Wisconsin. And an audit of Minnesota post office branches found delayed mail, safety issues, and deficiencies in property conditions.This is an MPR News morning update, hosted by Phil Picardi. Music by Gary Meister.

Cheryl from CF Design, the Commander in Chief is in the Twin Ports, the catholic Prez is a strong abortion advocate, Democrats support the abortion of Down Syndrome babies, The Prez is in Superior, the latest from Gaza, and more...See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Here's a look at the top headlines from around the Northland for Tuesday, Jan. 23, 2024.  The Duluth News Tribune Minute is a product of Forum Communications Company and is brought to you by reporters at the Duluth News Tribune, Superior Telegram and Cloquet Pine Journal. Find more news throughout the day at duluthnewstribune.com. If you enjoy this podcast, please consider supporting our work with a subscription at duluthnewstribune.news/podcast. Your support allows us to continue providing the local news and content you want.

Tom is a Duluthian, elite runner, and co-founder of the Lake Effect Athletics Club, a running team out of the Twin Ports. Tom has had a storied career and is still reaching for his prime. With several different health setbacks through the years, tune in to hear Tom's inspiring story about how a positive attitude ... Read more

Here's a look at the top headlines from around the Northland for Thursday, Dec. 28, 2023.  The Duluth News Tribune Minute is a product of Forum Communications Company and is brought to you by reporters at the Duluth News Tribune, Superior Telegram and Cloquet Pine Journal. Find more news throughout the day at duluthnewstribune.com. If you enjoy this podcast, please consider supporting our work with a subscription at duluthnewstribune.news/podcast. Your support allows us to continue providing the local news and content you want.

Alice O'Callaghan is a transgender community activist and CEO for the queer production company Zenith City Horror. She is a "20 under 40" award winner for her queer community and artistic leadership which spans over a decade in the Twin Ports. She is a modern day House Mother, providing advocacy and safe spaces for vulnerable queer youth and artists in the Twin Ports area. She prioritizes her fight against discrimination and exploitation of trans artists in the entertainment industry.Zenith City Horror: https://www.zch.gay/Miss Cupcake: https://www.instagram.com/ms.cupcake.drag/ Support the showInstagram: GenderStoriesHosted by Alex IantaffiMusic by Maxwell von RavenGender Stories logo by Lior Effinger-Weintraub

This past week, the Superior Telegram released it's 23rd episode of Archive Dive, which is a monthly history podcast where we “dive” into the archives of historic events, people and places in Superior and Douglas County.  For this month's episode, Telegram reporter Maria Lockwood and local historian and retired librarian Teddie Meronek explore the lives of three famous photographers with ties to Superior: David Francis Barry, Ray Jones and Esther Bubley. Barry was a noted photographer of the American West, who specialized in Native American portraits. He also captured the people and places of the Twin Ports with his lens after opening a photography business in Superior. Jones rose to glamorous heights and won several Academy Awards as the head of Universal Studio's still photography department during the golden age of Hollywood. Bubley was a freelance photographer who excelled as a photojournalist, balancing corporate clients with magazine work. Her intimate photos of everyday people graced publications such as Life and the Ladies Home Journal. You can find that episode at superiortelegram.com or wherever you also get this podcast. In case you missed last month's episode, we are resharing it here. In November, Maria and Teddie explored the stories and histories of the Hotel Superior and the Androy Hotel. Enjoy!  

MnDOT says a portion of the Twin Ports interchange project will not be completed this fall as planned because of a discovery of "findings of historical significance." That story and more in today's evening update from MPR News. Hosted by Jacob Aloi. Music by Gary Meister.

Crash with members of Minnesota college champion hockey team kills one, injures four, and Minnesota and Wisconsin plan a billion dollar rebuild for the iconic Blatnik bridge joining the Twin Ports. This is an evening update from MPR News, hosted by Tim Nelson. Music by Gary Meister.

On Saturday, Aug. 5, 2023, the Duluth News Tribune released episode 23 of the Northlandia podcast, which is a weekly podcast that tells true stories of the unique and fascinating people and places you'll find exploring the Northland.  To give you another opportunity to see the unique stories Northlandia has to offer, we're providing episode 8 here for you listen. This episode of Northlandia was first released on April 22, 2023.  If you enjoy the episode, we encourage you to check out the other episodes of Northlandia by visiting duluthnewstribune.com/topics/northlandia or wherever you get your podcasts. The Duluth News Tribune Minute is a product of Forum Communications Company and is brought to you by reporters at the Duluth News Tribune, Superior Telegram and Cloquet Pine Journal. Find more news throughout the day at duluthnewstribune.com.

Join Shylo with Molly Milroy! Molly Milroy is a writer and creator. In 2002 she graduated from Texas A&M University with her BA in English and in 2020 she graduated with her MA in Communication from Southern New Hampshire University. Currently she writes for a variety of publications in the Twin Ports and her work has also been featured in Lake and Company magazine and BMW Owners News magazine. Molly is passionate about Lake Superior and serves on the Board of Directors for the Great Lakes Aquarium. In 2018 she founded Rock Buddies, a way to remind others, ‘You Rock', by sending a personalized Rock Buddy character in the mail. Molly enjoys being outdoors, hiking, skiing, bicycling, paddleboarding, photography, traveling, and spending time with her seventeen nieces and nephews. Molly and her husband, Andy, live on the shore of Lake Superior.

This week's episode emphasizes the importance of recognizing and valuing the hard work of your employees. It also sheds light on the stories of blue-collar workers and why it's important to give them a voice. Daniel, Jon, and Shane share their experiences working with blue-collar workers and why it's important to tell their stories. They discuss the challenges faced by blue-collar workers, their resilience, and their contribution to the economy.

LA City fights the retrieval of LAPD officers from journalist, Twin Ports of LA and Long Beach shut down, a public health approach to prevent gun violence explored, and more. Support The L.A. Report by donating now at LAist.com/join  Support the show: https://laist.com

In this episode, ChatGPT presents four compelling reasons why solar energy makes financial sense in Minnesota. Shane and Cory delve into each point, providing their own perspectives and engaging in a lively debate about the accuracy of the arguments presented.If you're interested in going solar or upgrading your existing solar system, this episode is a must-listen. Cory shares his experience and expertise in the field of solar installation, offering valuable insights for those considering this renewable energy option.For more information about Wescom's solar offerings, visit their website at https://wescominc.com/solar-installation/.To connect with Cory Aili or host Shane Stolp on LinkedIn, check out their profiles at https://www.linkedin.com/in/cory-aili-8337a7138/ and https://www.linkedin.com/in/shane-stolp-49454711/.

Shane introduces Cory Aili, the Solar Lead at Wescom, and they discuss their personal experiences with solar. Shane and Cory talk about their excitement for the upcoming Arrowhead Home and Builder Show, and what attendees can expect to see and learn about solar installations.Shane and Cory dive into the five essential things you need to know when choosing a solar installer, according to ChatGPT.Shane wraps up the episode and encourages listeners who are interested in going solar or upgrading their existing system to come to next week's Home and Builder Show to visit about solar!This episode is a must-listen for anyone interested in going solar or looking to upgrade their existing solar system. Tune in to learn from Cory's experience and knowledge in the field of solar installation.If you're interested in learning more about Wescom's solar offerings: https://wescominc.com/solar-installation/ To connect with Cory Aili on LinkedIn, visit his profile at: https://www.linkedin.com/in/cory-aili-8337a7138.To connect with the host, Shane Stolp, on LinkedIn, you can find his profile here: https://www.linkedin.com/in/shane-stolp-49454711/.

Join host Shane Stolp in this week's episode for a heart-to-heart chat with Nate Jacob, Wescom's Bakken Operations Manager. Nate takes us on an incredible 8-year journey of grit, determination, and hard work that led him from his humble beginnings as an electrical apprentice to becoming a respected leader at Wescom.In this inspiring episode, Nate shares his highs, lows, and everything in between. He talks about the challenges he faced, the lessons he learned, and the opportunities he seized to climb the ranks and achieve his dreams.If you're interested in learning more about Shane, you can find his profile on LinkedIn at: https://www.linkedin.com/in/shane-stolp-49454711/.For more information about Wescom and our services, be sure to visit our website at https://wescominc.com/.

Here's a look at the top headlines from around the Northland for Friday, March 10, 2023.  The Duluth News Tribune Minute is a product of Forum Communications Company and is brought to you by reporters at the Duluth News Tribune, Superior Telegram and Cloquet Pine Journal. Find more news throughout the day at duluthnewstribune.com. If you enjoy this podcast, please consider supporting our work with a subscription at duluthnewstribune.news/podcast. Your support allows us to continue providing the local news and content you want.

Throughout this episode, Shane and Paul explore the various trials that leaders face in their roles, including navigating difficult conversations, leading teams through change, and making tough decisions that can impact the success of the organization.Shane and Paul offer listeners a unique glimpse into the world of leadership, sharing the insights and strategies that have helped them excel in their roles. Whether you're a seasoned leader or just starting out on your journey, this episode offers practical advice and inspiration for anyone looking to grow as a leader.If you're interested in learning more about Shane, you can find his profile on LinkedIn at: https://www.linkedin.com/in/shane-stolp-49454711/.For more information about Wescom and our services, be sure to visit our website at https://wescominc.com/.

This week's discussion is focused on the importance of environmental regulations in the industry and the need for companies to adapt to meet these regulations.The episode provides insights into the changes in environmental regulations in the oil and gas industry.If you're interested in hearing more from Erin, here is her LinkedIn profile: https://www.linkedin.com/in/erin-hutchins-57b891ba/If you'd like to connect with Shar on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/sharlene-harvester/For Shane, you can find his profile on LinkedIn at: https://www.linkedin.com/in/shane-stolp-49454711/.For more information about Wescom and our services, be sure to visit our website at https://wescominc.com/.   

Shane and Jack discuss how the landscape of the oil and gas industry is changing. They also examine the importance of grit in both entrepreneurship and blue-collar work. If you're interested in hearing more from Jack Hamlin, you can find his profile here: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jackhamlin/Additionally, if you'd like to connect with the host, Shane Stolp, on LinkedIn, you can find his profile at: https://www.linkedin.com/in/shane-stolp-49454711/.For more information about Wescom and the services we offer, be sure to visit our website at https://wescominc.com/.

Happy Spooky Wednesday, dear listeners! We've got a special treat for you this week with the return of Adam Herman! And he's not just here to comment this week... he's got stories of his own to tell! First up, Kala talks about Devil's Gulch in Garretson, SD. Legend says that long ago,this is where legendary Old West outlaw Jesse James made the leap of his life! And while we know that old western tales often lead to haunting, Jesse isn't the one to frequent this area... that's a more tragic story. Next, Adam shares two stories with us that both tie into his upcoming book, Villa Leila: A Muddy Tale of Love and Monsters. Both based in his hometown of Quincy, IL, he tells us about a haunted mansion and a ghost known to locals as the Levee Walker. Finally, Brittany tells us about the haunted doll known as Peggy. The spirit residing in this doll gives off such a strong energy that it has made people feel sick in its presence, or even just from looking at its photo! And this isn't just hearsay, the evidence piled up around this haunted object makes its legitimacy hard to deny. If you live in the Twin Ports, be sure to hit up the Villa Leila Launch Party at Bent Paddle Brewing Co. on Thursday, March 9th from 5:00pm - 9:00pm. Books will be available for sale at the party, along with live music from Lyla & Marshall Duo and Robin Hood Was Right. If you want to order Villa Leila (or Adam's previous book Limbo), you can do so online at Zenith Bookstore! Thank you for helping us support local businesses and local artists. We love and appreciate you all very much! --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/leftofskeptic/support

Nurses at 15 hospitals in the Twin Cities and Twin Ports have reached a tentative contract agreement, averting a strike that was set to start this weekend. This is an evening update from MPR News, hosted by Peter Cox. Music by Gary Meister.

Nurses have taken the lead in the wave of this year's labor activism. The largest private-sector nurses' strike in American history took place recently in Minnesota – 15,000 nurses walked off the job for three days in the Twin Cities and the Twin Ports. Other nurses threatened strikes in half a dozen other places. Bryce Covert reports a key front in the fight for better health care in America.Plus: Dahlia Lithwick talks about some of the heroes of the Trump years: the women lawyers who fought him on the big issues—the Muslim ban, neo-Nazis in Charlottesville, and voting rights. Her new book is “Lady Justice.”Subscribe to The Nation to support all of our podcasts: thenation.com/podcastsubscribe. Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy