Journeys 3.1

Once in a blue moon, we feel a bit lazy and pick up a rotisserie chicken for dinner. Today was meant to be that day: I was busy volunteering, and Dwight spent much of his day horizontal, recovering from the same cold I’ve just managed to shake. ​Ultimately, it wasn’t meant to be. The rotisserie shelves were empty, and when I asked, there was none ready in the back. It was time for Plan B: cooking from scratch.

Met a friend at the U, surrounded by sports stadiums. The weather was perfect for a ride to and around St. Paul’s Lake Como, followed by a cuppa from Dock & Paddle beside the lake.

Pumped up the tires and took myself out for a test drive. I performed well enough, though I’ll definitely be needing a nap this afternoon. All things considered, I’m ready to cycle to points east with my friend tomorrow.

Our colds persist. Going a little stir-crazy, I went for a walk, starting with this tunnel under the interstate near our home, dense with metaphors. Later, at a new bookshop, a barista with the snuffles brewed me a welcome Americano.

Day 3 nursing a cold: at least it’s not COVID. It’s a good day to lie on the couch and read Clouds Above the Hill, set in Meiji-era Japan. There’s an entire museum in Matsuyama devoted to this book; I’ve actually visited it, though only because it was designed by architect Tadao Ando and features a lovely cafe. At the time, the significance of the story was lost on me, but today I can escape my cold and lose myself in the history.

Picked up a bunch of ramps for a stir-fry from our local farmers market¹. The ramp season in Minnesota is remarkably short, lasting only about three weeks. Sadly, it’s still too early in the season for local cruciferous vegetables, so I reluctantly walked over to Whole Foods² where I found some healthy-looking dino kale from Michigan and red chard from California.

Walked over to Franklin Library, one of Minneapolis’s first Carnegie libraries, for my weekly tutoring session with an adult learner. Four years ago, the county library board cut funding for a walk-in center at that same library where I used to volunteer. This service had supported various waves of immigrants for over a century, and by working with my student, I tell myself I’m nodding to that 100-year tradition.