Microblog

Spotted this innocent scene while cycling along a residential street: Barbie and friends, oblivious to systemic racism, Covid-19, and each other. A little girl was down the block, playing with a friend, on to the next thing.

Grateful for excellent healthcare, even if it’s a screening colonoscopy.

After the events of last night it felt good to resolve a small crisis today. A neighbors’ grandchild had locked herself in their bathroom. Eventually I figured out the right tool to unlock a door from the outside. Relief and joy ensued.

Walked under the 10th Avenue Bridge, currently undergoing major rehabilitation. It’s next to the Interstate 35W Bridge that replaces a bridge that collapsed, without warning, during rush hour in August 2007.

Cycled down to Lake Street where we joined many hundreds of people with brooms and dustpans to do cleanup.

It’s a day for quiet reflection, a day to say nothing that could fan the flames.

As anger spills over in Minneapolis, I’m focusing on my small contribution for a better future. A GED (high school equivalency diploma) text, the size of a phone book, arrived in the mail. I’ll tutor an adult non-native speaker online.

Locked up our bikes, sipped cappuccinos, looked out at Lake Harriet framed by the back wall of the bandshell stage.

Water spilled down a glass wall across a silent Minneapolis street. I’d failed to notice this in normal times; now I hear it each time I cycle by.

Returned parts from recent projects to assigned plastic shoeboxes or to a Habitat donation bag. Shoeboxes are the right size to group parts: bigger boxes hide clutter. Two of the brown crates hold parts for current projects. The process never ends: some shelves need work now,

Took a photo of our lunch to send to a former colleague of Dwight who had given him the bowls and hashi rests as a retirement gift.

Our morning stroll became an eight-miler where we saw beauty and transience.

St. John Baptist de La Salle stood lookout while we set up suitably spaced lawn chairs and chatted with friends on the grounds of a high school.

Spotted on our walk: a mouse door.

Posted Our Country Club.

A run became a walk; blue poles projected calm.