After the ice-fishing, Rob and I went to Saint John’s Abbey, a Benedictine monastery which has really interesting architecture. It was built in during the period when everyone was doing very modern, minimilist structures, which by and large look like concrete blocks. This doesn’t. It is clean and massive.

Rob’s mom says that he likes it because it is “masculine.”

Here’s a shot of the interior balcony supports. You have no sense of scale from this photo.

Once again, we came home to the smell of Shawna’s cooking. Laura came down from Duluth so the dinner table was quite full.

I’ve survived the hazing ritual of ice-fishing. They tell me that it’s a leisure activity, but I’m convinced that it’s just a way to get the Southern girl out on the frozen lake. Rob and his brother, Kevin, took me out to the ice-fishing house in the middle of the lake that their house fronts on.

Rob drilled a hole in the ice with an auger. He’s delighted by the simplicity of the auger, and I have to admit that it’s an elegant way to get a hole in the ice.

The ice is about six inches thick at this point; I guess it will get thicker later. They keep telling me that it’s not cold yet, but the weather is making Iceland look warm.

After that, we went into the ice-fishing house, which is surprisingly cozy. I sat between Kevin and Rob. Look at them! They both seem to be having loads of fun staring at a fishing line that goes through a hole in the ice.

Rob caught two Great Northerns. Here’s Kevin, holding up the smaller one. My nephew, John, caught one last night so we’ll have a fish fry sometime this weekend.

My sister-in-law, Shawna, spent the morning cooking while we were out. The house smelled wonderful when we came back in–after my nose thawed. She’s making stuffed peppers for dinner.