Microblog

From our home, we can see the Hennepin Island Hydroelectric Plant, opened in 1908 to power the streetcar system. In 2019, pretty much the same equipment powers 14,000 homes. Today we got to see the inside. Huge, blue conduits deliver Mississippi water to four turbines.

Posted Less is More.

Cycled through Fort Snelling National Cemetery, surrounded by 225,000 graves of military veterans and their immediate families. Later this month, a flag will be placed at each veteran’s grave marker for Memorial Day.

Drums, chants, bison melt. Lunch at the Minneapolis American Indian Center after a morning of cartesian coordinates and citizenship.

On my cycle ride, the Hennepin Avenue bridge framed the Grain Belt Beer sign. The first bridge permanently spanning the Mississippi, anywhere, was opened here in 1855. The beer sign dates back to 1941.

Cycled around Nordeast Minneapolis, frequently changing direction on a whim.

Jog, walk, cycle, beer + fish + chips, nap. Sunday.

Achieved new culinary heights: assembled Spam Musubi, a fusion food popular in Hawaii. Minnesota: Spam (fried). The can makes an excellent musubi mold. Japan: soy sauce and nori. California: sushi rice. Next time we’ll add mirin to the rice to make it stickier.

Walked along a tributary of the Mississippi where my friends temporarily joined a group of birders. I learned this is the best time of the year to hear bird songs.

“Discovered” Tori 44 in a St. Paul neighborhood. They make their own noodles, which pushed the dish up a notch. I’m slowly collecting places around the Twin Cities serving decent versions of my favorite comfort food.

Posted Blue Tarps in a Park.

Tonkotsu ramen revived me after a morning cycle ride.

It was time for my quarterly top-up at the Frauenshuh Cancer Center. Together with another drug, it continues to suppress tumor.

This afternoon I was a couch potato devouring a new novel, in translation: “Tokyo Ueno Station.” It depicts poverty and homelessness in Japan and deepened my understanding of scenes I’ve glimpsed in Japan. As I expected, the ending was not happy.

It was perfect weather for a New Orleans-style crawfish boil at the home of my in-laws. The food was tipped onto the table, and we picked food up with our fingers. The table was covered in plastic, rather than (traditional) newspapers. These days, our newspapers are digital.

Posted A Hike Across the Yorkshire Dales.