Microblog

With angry rock pounding and the vague smell of fried chicken, I reacquainted myself with a St. Paul, Midway institution, Ax-Man Surplus. Nothing had changed over the decades from the iron lung to the snarky signs. As I walked out, empty-handed, the gnarly guy at the counter asked me if I’d ever thought of buying something I didn’t want. I said they now had mindshare, which seemed to be a sufficient response.

Our objective was a bridge over the BNSF Northtown Yard, a rail yard that stretches for over three miles. It was another heat advisory day, and the weather caught up with me at the bridge as my pedal power faded. My friend, knowing my aversion to hydration, had brought an extra water bottle that worked wonders. I made it back home, but my blood pressure was abnormally low due to dehydration, prompting a firm vow to always carry water from now on.

Thought of my dad in the 1920s and myself in the ’50s and ’60s, modeling the world with Meccano. A freight train rumbled overhead as I took shelter under the Short Line Bridge, briefly escaping the sun’s direct rays. Motivating me forward was the promise of fish tacos for lunch at Sea Salt in Minnehaha Park, and the knowledge that today’s extreme heat warning would deter the usual long line snaking out the door.

Postponed our usual Sunday morning walk because of lightning and rain. On our now-afternoon walk, a block from home, this native planting meadow was flourishing with help from the morning’s rain. Until a couple years ago, this section of city park land was weedy, cut grass. Now, it delights pollinators and passers-by.

Trapped at a red traffic light on our bicycles, a sign warned us that God hates people like Dwight and me. White “christian” nationalists shouted at us through a bullhorn, promising that Tr*mp would punish us. Arriving at the Pride Festival, we joined a crowd of many thousands, got to see the world’s biggest rubber duck, and sipped a Deschutes Fresh Squeezed in a beer garden on a gloriously sunny day.

At the Franklin Library, my adult learner had forgotten her reading glasses. Usually, the librarians keep a few pairs handy, but they were out of readers. Instead, we had a spoken session on the life of Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson. It went well, and my learner showed good comprehension. Afterward, I ordered a bunch of reading glasses that I’ll drop off at the library next week.

As we often do on a Thursday evening, we compared notes about our day over bar food and beer at Maxwell’s. As usual, Dwight had been tending to the plants at the university greenhouse. My day was somewhat less remarkable since school is out. ​So, here are some of the flowering plants he spotted as he went about his duties in different climates today.

Tonight: Come from Away at the Guthrie, about the airline passengers stranded in Gander, Newfoundland, on 9/11. I was struck by how much of the Guthrie’s online study guide explains the actual events of 9/11, but then I realized that over 40% of Americans were either not yet born or were too young to remember it. I’m expecting good theater focused on the acting, with strong doses of empathy and community, and minimal conflict.

Took the light rail to Fort Snelling Station to meet a friend for a bike ride along the Minnesota River. While waiting, I waved to these good people who had been risking arrest monitoring ICE activity at the Whipple Federal Building (seen on the left). Activity here is way down from last winter, when brown people, including U.S. citizens, were swept off the streets and detained under cruel conditions.

Out walking with friends, the contents of a board game lay scattered across our path. A brief effort to spin a story about the spill sparked a discussion on the proliferation of Little Free Libraries, which are often packed with books no one wants. This led to a nod of appreciation for digital library books.

Cycled up one side of the Mississippi and down the other. Here below the Lowry Avenue Bridge, two people are fishing, with downtown Minneapolis straight ahead at a bend in the river.

On my cycle ride today, I spotted this photo session. Known as the Guardians of the Flame, law enforcement members and Special Olympics athletes will carry the Flame of Hope into the USA Games Opening Ceremony at the U this evening. There are currently 4,000 athletes from all 50 states in town

We subscribe to the bi-monthly Cook’s Illustrated from America’s Test Kitchen because we like its analytical approach to cooking. Recently, Dwight has vowed to try one new recipe per month from the magazine, something I strongly encourage. Already, his banana bread and biscotti are the best; today, it was the turn of focaccia, hopefully a new Friday tradition.

My cycle route included Fort Snelling. In the 1830s, Dred Scott (yes, that Dred Scott) lived here, enslaved by an army surgeon. The infamous 1857 Supreme Court ruling declared that Black people, whether free or enslaved, were not United States citizens, and that the federal government lacked the authority to restrict or abolish slavery. In 2026, we continue to resist the undermining of human rights by today’s Supreme Court, which is once again dividing our nation.

It’s raining on-and-off all day, so I’m staying close to home. My morning consisted of three loads of laundry intertwined with an exercycle downstairs in the workout room, Open Book for an Americano and a donut, and Trader Joe’s for dinner provisions: just a few reasons we love living in ZIP 55415, the fastest-growing urban core in the country. ​(The infographic is AI-generated. Maxwell’s in an 1894 building, is our usual Thursday night dinner destination.)

​Attended a panel discussion on AI in cancer research and care. It’s not the kind of event that would normally catch my eye, but when I received an email from the U about it, I decided to go. My oncologist, a professor at the U who researches recurrent and advanced prostate cancer and uses AI in his work, was one of the featured speakers. Hearing him speak reassured me that his real intelligence and good humor won’t be replaced by a machine anytime soon.