About Me — Normal Earthling

Hemidemisemiquaver is fun to say. Have you had fun today?

Normal Earthling with kiddos Rosa, Corbin, and Anna. Photo by N.E.

My newfound Medium gem, Brandon Ellrich tagged me for the 100 things in 20 minutes challenge. The goal is to write freestyle 100 things in under 20 minutes.

Well, I’ve been meaning to create an about-me page for years now (mostly because the poor writers I stalk here might want to know who they’re dealing with. Short answer: I’m Mostly Harmless.)

So I figured why not put the two of ’em together and see what comes flowing out? In my usual rambling absent-minded way of oversharing and adding visuals because words often fail me. So without further ado, here’s 100 random tidbits about me. Pull up a chair and grab a cup of your favorite beverage. Let me take a swig of my cocoa, and I’ll begin. (You’ve been warned…)

1. I was born ‘n’ raised in the northern Twin Cities area (in Minnesota).

I’ve always been an avid reader. Family photo.

2. Much time was spent on the Iron Range (northern Minnesota area), where my extended family was from.

Grandpa and I, circa 1980. Family photo.

3. Kinda. I’m 3rd generation from a mixed batch of mostly Scandinavian and Croatian immigrants. Many worked in the mines up there. Some came over on the Mayflower. Many are a deep thinker. Open-minded explorers.

My ancestry to Stephen Hopkins, a Mayflower passenger. Seems mother’s alcoholic tendencies can be traced back to him as well.

4. I grew up spending summers at my grandparent’s cabin. The family’s quite the mixed bag. Israeli cousins, a Kurdish uncle, and a crippled aunt who barely survived polio gathered together in the small abode.

Uncle Suleyman with Auntie in New York years ago. He’s an incredibly kind and mild-mannered man who has been persecuted terribly by his fellow Americans just as much as the Turkish citizens he originally fled from.

David, myself, Ranana, and Botcha circa 1980. Ranana’s my age, and we loved spending summers together. Their English was as good as mine, but I loved listening to them converse in Hebrew. Such a beautiful language.

5. And that’s just my paternal side of the family.

6. I was so sure I was adopted.

7. So did everyone else when they saw me with my parents.

N.E. with parents, circa 1978. Family photo.

8. I was also sure I was an alien, and my real family would come back for me someday.

N.E. with 4th grade science project. Many a night was spent crying, searching the stars for my ride home…

9. Mother took me to a doctor for that one.

10. He didn’t believe me. But his name was Dr. Neip Tuna. Proof right there, buddy. That whole thing was obviously a cover-up.

11. I left home in my teens.

12. My mother was an alcoholic. Father was too until a failing liver scared him sober.

13. Mother died at age 55. The liver and kidneys shut down.

14. I have one sibling, a brother over six years younger than I.

N.E. holding baby brother, circa 1981. Family photo.

15. He went psychotic shortly after mother died and was eventually diagnosed with schizophrenia.

My brother with my firstborn Alex, shortly before mother died and he lost all sense of reality.

16. While we are not close (hey, I left home when he was like 9), I am proud of how far he has come.

17. He is happily married to an awesomely smart, witty, and strong woman. They both have good careers and take good care of our father.

My brother and wife. Family photo.

18. My father is a pretty cool guy. We never really talked until mother died. Now we are close.

A teenage me kicking the ol’ man’s butt in Yahtzee back up north, circa 1990 or so.

19. I married at 18 to a guy over 10 years older than I.

Yes, he was that short. Or I am that tall. I’ll let you decide. Family photo, April 1994.

20. I was 5 months pregnant when we married.

21. My Catholic mother rather forced the issue.

Just a lost girl looking for a place to land…and a Navy vet with a rap sheet running from the law… what could go wrong? Family photo.

22. We were married for over 21 years. On paper. He had many affairs, did time in jail, and just wasn’t around much.

23. We had seven children. Moved around a bit, but finally settled down in a nice rural town west of the Twin Cities.

24. He up and left for good in 2015.

Our kiddos, shortly after the divorce was final. They wouldn’t see their father for at least another 5 years. He literally disappeared until social services located him in 2019. The youngest has no memory of him ever being a part of the family. Photo by N.E.

25. I married again, to a narcissist monster in 2017. (Hey, he seemed nice at the time…)

Our rings. He loved all things Star Wars, and thought the dark side/ light side ring theme was cool. Obviously the foreshadowing force does not flow through my spindly veins… Family photo.

26. Moved into his home (in Wisconsin) with his two sons and my 5 youngest.

Our blended family, wedding day 2017.

27. Things quickly went downhill, and soon only my youngest 3 were still living with me.

28. Armed officers and social workers rescued us in 2019.

29. We stayed in a woman’s shelter for 3 months. He had financially and psychologically destroyed me.

Our small room at the shelter. I began the process of overcoming my crippling anxiety and PTSD. The girls also received extensive counseling. I cannot say enough good things about the staff there.

30. But I quickly got a job and an apartment. The sword of Damocles: that I could have my children taken away, was and still somewhat is my main motivation for pretending to be an adult human who has her shit together.

31. Oh, guess I didn’t mention earlier, but I’ve worked as a nanny, taught in daycare centers, ran my own in-home daycare, and worked the returns counter at Walmart over the years while married for the first time. After he left I started a career as a caregiver in a nursing home. Became a CNA with specialized training in dementia and combative patients. Became a hospice volunteer, and have assisted many dear ones through that final door.

My toddler class in the Phillips neighborhood of Minneapolis, 1995. Photo by N.E.

A dear one I provided care for through the end; myself and a coworker. Photo collage gifted to author and used with permission from family.

32. So I found myself working over 80 hours a week, with Covid raging and neglected kiddos of my own, and, well, I cracked.

My mental state at the time. Photo by N.E.

33. Did I mention my X was hunting us this whole time?

34. Thankfully, we are finally safe from that. Occasionally justice/ karma is served.

35. We moved in with my first husband and his then-girlfriend in Missouri.

36. He reconnected with his youngest kids. He hadn’t seen them in over 5 years.

37. I slept on a mat in their living room for a month straight.

38. Until he strongly hinted I get a job and move on.

39. Originally I wanted desperately to get back to Minnesota. Most of my kids were living together there.

Corbin toggled between realities for several years. Poor boy. (He’s the one in red, informing me he safely arrived at his brother’s studio apartment.)

40. I got a job in the Kirksville, Missouri area as a support person and medical caregiver for disabled adults.

Fun fact, this car is often seen on the streets of Kirksville. Photo by N.E.

41. I was offered a large vacant farmhouse to rent up close to the Iowa border. Nice and rural. I could roam the land again. Have a garden again.

Recent photo out front window. Foggy dawn with dew-kissed vroom-vrooms. I am loving it here. Photo by N.E.

42. We took it. At times my heart bleeds for Minnesota, (and total aside, but this number is THE answer. I clap 42 times for anything that adds meaning to my existence.)

43. but I do appreciate the milder winters here. And the sun. Somehow it’s just so much brighter. Summers are blindingly bright. Less humid, too. And no mosquitoes!

Ella waiting for a local parade to start. Photo by N.E.

44. All my children have moved down here. 6 live with me. I’m not sure at this point who is taking care of who anymore. Raising my youngest is very much a group effort.

The kiddos. Back row: Nora (20), Alex (28), Caleb (26: he visits often), Corbin (22). Front row: Rosa (17), Anna (15), and Ella (11). Photo by N.E.

45. The other one (Caleb) lives a bit south of us, with his fiancé and new babe.

46. Yes, that makes me a Nana.

47. This number is my earthly age. I feel much too young to be a Nana.

Sign spotted at shop a bit ago. Photo by N.E.

48. I have been through some strange health issues. Enough to know how little doctors know.

49. Best they can come up with is it’s something neurological. And progressive. My neuropathy is amusing.

50. Except for when I cut my foot in the kitchen and didn’t notice (can’t feel my feet) until I slipped and fell in a pool of my own blood.

51. I felt humbled and embarrassed watching my children clean up the mess while I fixed up my foot.

52. I don’t like dwelling on my body’s failing much. But at times it is really hard to type, and at times I have a lot of digestive issues, so I may not comment as much as usual.

53. I’ve commented nearly 1000 times since coming back to Medium in 2018.

Screen-grab of my stats.

54. I was active here since 2015 or 16 until my second husband deleted me.

55. But I snuck back.

56. We currently live with 2 rabbits and 12 cats. A couple of rabbits, a dog, and 2 beloved cats are buried out back, along with many feral kittens and wildlife we couldn’t save.

Typical scene from anywhere in our abode. Photo by N.E.

57. I love walking about in nature. I have a solid built-in sense of direction and may go off-trail. A lot.

Treed. Photo by N.E.

58. I enjoy photography. Always have. J.R. Schaefers has rekindled the desire to peer through a viewfinder, and I recently started hiking with my camera in tow again.

N.E. with first camera, circa 1986. Family photo.

N.E. still at it. Family photo.

It’s occurring to me that the only photos my children take of me are in rather strange poses…

59. I am an avid reader. Books, newspapers, magazines, Medium. I devour them all. Really into memoirs lately.

One of my bookshelves. Yeah, I kinda got a thing for skeletons. Photo by N.E.

60. This is the only social media site I’m on. I love humans and feel honored and privileged to reach out and make a connection.

My “office,” where I typed this word vomit up. With much loved electric fireplace. A must on my always-cold numb legs. Photo by N.E.

61. I drink hot cocoa. A lot. As a child, it was thumb-sucking. I love humans, but interacting exhausts me. It’s my coping mechanism.

A kid caught me cocoa-handed while on vacation. Family photo.

62. I am lactose intolerant. My hot cocoa is a scoop of cocoa powder with a smidgen of stevia and hot water.

63. Most find it very bitter. I also really love pomegranates. That has nothing to do with cocoa. Just realizing I’m really craving one right now…

64. I play Pokémon Go at times. It was/ is a fun way to bond with my kiddos.

I was quite bummed when I left level 42, to be honest.

65. I have different musical tastes than most ‘round here.

My Spotify top genres from 2021 and 2022.

66. I currently work as a paraprofessional at an elementary school.

N.E. by day…

67. I specialize in non-verbal communication, and both children I work with are mostly non-verbal.

68. But they communicate so much. I love working with children again.

True that. Photo by N.E.

69. My own speech comes out garbled at times. They don’t mind.

70. I drool occasionally. I find it amusing. I drop things a lot. When I spill my hot cocoa, I am not so amused. (And no, I never eat or drink while at work. I try to hide my shortcomings so as to appear as just a normal earthling.)

K. So this cocoa spill did look pretty cool. Photo by N.E.

71. Because if I can’t laugh about it, my mind goes to dark places.

72. When it’s time, my kids are to bring me to a beach, facing the sunset; the tide rising.

Lakeside sunset. Photo by N.E.

73. They are not to look back.

74. Problem is, there are no beaches around here.

75. So I’d best keep this body running for as long as I can.

76. I am a television and movie virgin. My life has been spent mostly in a book or outdoors.

I biked everywhere. N.E. circa 1982. Family photo.

77. What little I do watch is with the kiddos.

78. I have trouble sitting for long stretches.

I do like occasionally having Nasa’s live feed on, though. Soothing. Photo by N.E.

79. Hot baths with a good book is the only way I survive winter.

80. I am solar-powered. Not kidding. On dreary overcast days, I’m in a mental fog.

81. I’ve made many a friend here on Medium. Followers, stats, and money mean nothing to me. (I’ve never joined the get paid to write a program. I’m just an avid reader who enjoys connecting with real writers, who not only take the time to read my comments, but some even make my day by replying to them.)

82. Dear Deborah has been out to visit a couple times.

Ella, N.E., and Deborah Kristina explored Fairfield, Iowa this past summer.

83. We enjoyed exploring the area together. She is so wise and an overall amazing being.

84. I collect bones I find while wandering about.

A bit of my collection. Photo by N.E.

85. I have a soft spot for fast cars.

Had a much needed laugh when this alert popped up on my phone. Screen shot by N.E.

86. I may at times speed.

Vroom Vroom. Photo by N.E.

87. I blame my neuropathy for that. Cruise control is a blessing that has no doubt prevented many speeding tickets.

88. And no, I’ve never gotten one.

89. (Knocks on wood.)

90. I am going to try to be more active on Medium again.

91. I really am only a reader. My word vomit is just that. Do I get a free pass on poor grammar, coming from the Iron Range and all?

92. Yeah, I really do say yeah a lot. And occasionally ya betcha.

93. Somehow people ‘round here immediately know I’m from Minnesota. I will say one sentence. One! And the first thing they say is “Ya’ll from Minnesota?”

94. Even the gal who does my hair. And she’s from Colorado!

95. I love learning about other people and cultures.

An Amish buggy. They are all over our area. Speak a form of German, I believe. Lovely and friendly folk. Photo by N.E.

96. I really enjoy math and science.

97. I have a dark sarcastic sense of humor. I blame my father for that. For a while, I lost my humor, but it’s slowly coming back.

Daughter Nora proving our sense of humor is indeed genetically handed down. Photo by N.E.

98. The children I work with rekindled that joy. Somehow they get my sense of humor while the adults around here are clueless.

99. I see faces all the time. I keep a supply of googly-eyes on me in hopes of causing a smile or two.

He’s been googled! Photo by N.E.

100. So now you know a bit about this strange being who’s been stalking your Medium posts and throwing out random comments. And yes, I did spit this out in under 20 minutes! Now, correcting the type-to-text and adding photos took a bit longer, natch.

Strangely specific time limit, don’tcha think? Photo by N.E.

101. (Cuz I never seem to follow the rules) Cheers!

B.O.B. says “so long, and thanks for all the fish!”