Took the opportunity while Dwight was seeing a friend to grab a spicy lunch at a nearby Thai restaurant. A “Private Property” sign on the door explicitly forbids immigration enforcement on the premises. The City of Minneapolis estimates that since December, ICE agents have caused well over $100 million in economic damage to city businesses and workers afraid to go to work, while straining city resources.
Category: Our Neighborhood
Stronger together
Walked over to Open Book for a cuppa. The folks at the Minnesota Center for Book Arts had been busy at the letterpress; a “please take one” sign sat beside a now-nonexistent pile of protest posters. It reminded me of our recent travels: whenever people asked where we were from, “Minneapolis, Minnesota” always drew a warm, informed response. “The US,” less so.
Dinner and hard truths
Snowy walk to meet friends for a “modern take on authentic Mexican food.” Because people are afraid to go out lately, the restaurant has had to shorten its hours. We received great service from our server, and we chatted at the end of our meal. She shared her well-founded fear of being dragged off by ICE goons on her way from work because of the color of her skin, despite being an American-born citizen.
Curved steel and high rails
Our closest river crossing, Bridge Number 9, reopened today, so we went for a walk. It gives us a straight (well, curved) shot to the University’s East Bank and medical campus. The new railings are now well above a cyclist’s center of gravity and serve as a suicide deterrent.
Americano, no ICE
The barista at Open Book’s coffee shop gave me a friendly wave as I walked in for my usual six-ounce Americano. I’d been examining the sign telling ICE goons to stay away. Some are billeted in hotels in our neighborhood, and judging by their low literacy levels, I’d be surprised if any wanted to walk into this temple of books for a cuppa. Similar signs are popping up on businesses all over the city.
The first walk
An advantage, if not a responsibility, of being old is using resources when others can’t. Today at noon, our local bar is quiet. It was doubtless packed last night for New Year’s Eve, but the patrons are now home nursing hangovers. Our New Year’s Day tradition is a walk, though today it was curtailed by the cold; a five-minute stroll to our local, Maxwell’s, for lunch was all we could muster.
Goodies at the museum
Our local farmers market is a more modest affair during the winter. Instead of being outside, it’s held in the lobby of the Mill City Museum. Picked up bacon sausages from a local farm, along with some crusty bread and savory croissants from a small local bakery.
Neighbors
Picked up a coffee at Open Book, with its welcoming marquee, before catching a bus to school. The route passed the second marquee in Cedar-Riverside (“Little Mogadishu”). In my first class, I worked with Somali-American women studying to be Certified Nursing Assistants. In the final class, students marked the end of the semester by bringing an abundance of delicious Somali food, including, of course, the obligatory sambusas.
From Gold to Cold
The season’s first winter storm hit overnight, leaving three inches of snow. The hard wind brought windchill temperatures into the teens. Took this photo at Gold Medal Park, then back home I retreated under my blankie and asked AI to turn the G into a C.
Transformers, circuit breakers, switches, busbars, and insulators
Today I walked past this substation. It distributes power from a hydroelectric plant powered by the Mississippi at St. Anthony Falls. The plant was built in 1908 to power the streetcar system, and the same generators are still running today. It always intrigues me that the substation’s footprint is larger than the actual power plant.