Cycled with a friend around Railroad Island, a St. Paul neighborhood hemmed in by train tracks. An Italian restaurant, an Italian market, and a supermercado highlighted its strong immigrant ties. Riding along mostly quiet residential streets, we passed the oldest brick house in St. Paul and stopped by an urban farm holding an open house.
Category: Living
Hiding in plain sight
Popped into Lunds & Byerlys to pick up a can of butter beans for a paella I’m making this evening to celebrate Friday. On the way out, I couldn’t find my sunglasses. Just glad I didn’t ask an assistant if they’d seen a pair of sunglasses. The answer would’ve been “yes.” Finally found them when I tried to put on my cycle helmet.
Scanning the dark
For 20 minutes I lie completely still, in a lie-flat seat on an A350, seven miles above the Bering Sea. Outside, it’s night: pitch black below, devoid of any lights from ships or the scattered islands far below. As the radiologist opens my bone scan, searching for points of light, I wish him that same quiet journey.
Time to get dunking
Arrived home to the smell of baking biscotti.
Rebel with a clause
That was a nice surprise. Knowing I’m not firing on all cylinders, a friend just dropped off a book she knows I’ll love, showing she clearly has my number. I edit the world (I find typos on manhole covers), though over the years I’ve managed to rein in the obsession when avoiding overcorrecting English language learners. This will be a welcome relief after a tense novel set in WWII France, and I have a feeling I’ll be laughing at myself.
Lying low
It was a day to lie on the couch and read. The study drug made staying close to home the wiser choice.
Molycoddling our plants
Minneapolis tap water tastes good straight from the faucet, but our plants disagree, so we run irrigation water through fancy filters. A year ago we bought the wrong size filters and missed the return window. Today I put them up for sale on eBay, with proceeds going to Doctors Without Borders.
Hallowed ground
Walked over to the farmers market. In the shade of the Guthrie, a painting class focused on a red food truck, its faint reflection visible in the windows behind them. This space is special to us. During COVID, we held our spontaneous wedding reception here, complete with lawn chairs, alongside the two friends who witnessed our vows in the judge’s chambers.
Asian market run
Picked up this haul from an Asian supermarket: Japanese snack mix, Japanese mayo, Asian broccoli, Japanese curry cubes, and Japanese KitKats. Japanese egg salad sandwiches are the best, thanks to that mayo. The slightly bitter Asian broccoli nicely offsets a sweeter dish. I’ve read that over 90% of Japanese homes use curry cubes to make a curry base: just add leftover veggies, spoon some rice on the side from the rice cooker, and you have a satisfying, quick meal.
Lurking
I’m the mysterious gentleman lurking in the grimy Pedicord Apartments, part of the permanent collection at the U’s Weisman Art Museum. If you lean in to any apartment door, you can eavesdrop on what’s going on inside. I’m between appointments. I’ve just had the most thorough eye exam ever, including a 3D digital model of the inside of my eyes ordered by the study, hence the dark glasses.