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Called 911: a guy had passed out on a cycle path and was breathing intermittently. Before paramedics arrived, a physician from the county hospital just happened to cycle by. And, he just happened to have a narcan kit handy. An injection brought the patient back: he almost died.

Beer and bar food for dinner at Longfellow’s. Life’s good.

Como Park Conservatory on a cycle ride to St. Paul and beyond.

Avoided buyer’s remorse, only looked. Urban Garden Arts at the Minneapolis Farmers Market.

Pit stop, Carma Coffee.

Made a root veggie (rutabaga, carrots, potatoes, onions) with lamb braise. Tomatoes, tomato paste, and paprika made it rather monochromatic. Plating(!), and the shaved fennel and supremed orange salad by Dwight. Leftovers for dinner on Tuesday.

Well-maintained industrial ruins towered above while I waited in a socially distanced line at Mill City Farmers Market.

No time to post today. Having way too much fun following my, er, nemesis, Senga Oberon ⁦@OberonSenga⁩ helping people back to the light

Cycled with a friend, as I do every week when it’s dry and warm enough. We rode on a rail trail from a former train depot in Hopkins to Excelsior and back. I laughed the first time he appeared with this truck, but it’s great for transporting bikes, includ

Took time to warm up on a chilly bike ride.

On my multimodal jaunt (shared bicycles and walking), an artist took the opportunity for self-expression on some of the plywood that is temporarily ubiquitous in our community.

Greeted National Guardsmen on my walk through the Minneapolis North Loop to a block where, in 1934, strikers were shot at by the police. Most were shot in the back, 67 were injured, two died. Martial law was declared, and the National Guard was deployed.

Picked up ethnic foods at Lands End Pasty Company in the Dinkytown neighborhood of Minneapolis: Cornish pasties, sausage rolls, and, drum roll please, a can of mushy peas. Takes me back to my childhood.

I always smile when I cycle past “Lizard Lounge” on the grounds of a social services organization in northeast Minneapolis. The sculptor, Mary Johnson, was inspired by 1950s roadside attractions, and used materials authentic to that genre.

Started our search for area rugs.

Posted Senga Sayin’ It as It Is (Guest Blogger).