Microblog

Planned my next LEGO Technic adventure. Ordered components, including 100 grey hubs, 60 black modified triangle liftarms, and 8 white geared clutches. Even with a substantial collection, a single project can easily demand dozens of the same piece: there’s always something missing.

At Sip Coffee Bar, the gregarious sculptor Zoran Mojsilov introduced himself and sat down beside me. He’d noticed me taking in some of his works in progress in his yard across the street. He asked if any stood out, and I mentioned one. He is constantly working on commissions, and I see his sculptures around town. He referred to us both as “grey-heads” as we chatted about the Old World, compared notes on Yugoslavia in the 1970s, and agreed socialism can be good.

Posted “Helping research, helping myself.” Click through for a link. Reflecting on a clinical study I’m starting on Monday got me thinking about Britain’s Common Cold Unit (1946–1990) where people volunteered to get the cold or ‘flu.

After a cycle ride and cuppa with my friend, I made my way through Seward, a neighborhood where it was no surprise every stop sign had been carefully changed to “STOP ICE” and lawns carried community-minded messages. I couldn’t stop myself thinking administration officials must have never read the Beatitudes despite claiming their love of the Bible. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness… Blessed are the peacemakers.”

It seemed safe enough to ignore the diversion signs while running errands. The 20-year-old Blue Line LRT is closed for seven weeks for major maintenance, including replacing some track and upgrading signals. I sometimes take my bike on the train to reach further-out trailheads, and it’s our go-to route to the airport.

Two pedicabs passed me on the Stone Arch Bridge. Beyond, two young people were creating content, presumably for social media, while one filmed as the other leapt across the path. Fundraisers had set up a table and were trying to attract the attention of passersby as I pressed down harder on the pedals. Off the end of the bridge, the usual Jehovah’s Witness stand was set up with two in attendance. We didn’t make eye contact, so I didn’t give my usual cheery greeting.

Put on one of my “ramen tees,” which still bears the faint evidence of previous splashes that no amount of washing will completely hide. Then, I headed over to the U for a morning of pokes, stabs, and staying motionless for 25 minutes. Afterward, a bowl of tonkotsu udon took me straight to a happy place where everything is all right.

Viewed downtown through smoky air on our usual Sunday morning walk. American and Canadian firefighters are working side-by-side to control blazes in Minnesota’s Boundary Waters, even as the president threatens to impose tariffs on Canada over their forest fire smoke, a power he actually lacks. Meanwhile, the administration is busy rebranding terms like “climate change,” canceling wind farm developments, and promoting the construction of new coal-fired power plants.

Cycled along a hydroelectric plant service road just below where we live, an area I’ve rarely visited. The 1903 red brick building across the river was originally a power plant for the Minneapolis streetcar system, but today it serves as the University of Minnesota’s Southeast Steam Plant. It heats nearly every building on the Minneapolis campuses and generates 20% of their electricity.

There were no takers for pre-show drinks outside, where it was a sweltering 90-plus degrees, but inside Orchestra Hall, the AC was doing a grand job. Following medical scans this afternoon, with more lined up for Monday, a glass of wine and an escape into the world of Britten, Beethoven, and Schumann were most welcome.

Walked home from the U through smoke after consenting to a Phase 1 clinical trial. If tests over the next week continue to qualify me, I’ll receive a “Tri-Specific Killer Engager” (!) immunotherapy agent that may harness my immune system to kill tumor cells. I’ve been on Phase 2 and 3 trials; this one is more experimental, but I’m hopeful it will kick the can further down the road.

Mapped circuit breakers to outlets, appliances, and lights on a floor plan, then added a QR code to the breaker box linking to it. There are a few orphan outlets left to figure out, but adding them to the digital plan later means I won’t need to update the physical QR code.

On my steamy cycle ride, I noticed a newcomer to South Minneapolis: the Debre Selam Medhanealem Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church. While I work with Muslim Somali adult learners who lived in refugee camps in Ethiopia, I don’t recall ever meeting Ethiopian Christians. Because they first arrived in the Twin Cities in the 1960s, they are generally more established and dispersed than the Somali community, which first arrived in the 1990s.

Cycled home from Stillwater. At Duluth Junction, a nod to the rail trails we were riding, we stopped for a water break. There, we had a nice chat with our photographer: a woman who lives in a seniors’ building and was out for her daily 15-miler.

Cycled to Stillwater, off-road trails all the way, taking about four hours. It was scorching hot, but the trails were often shaded, and we cooled off at lunch in a dark dive bar. We’re spending the night in Stillwater, then heading home tomorrow. Here, we’re taking an after-dinner stroll, about to cross the St. Croix River, looking toward Wisconsin.

A bag of rice arrived today, grown in Niigata, Japan. Because Japan exports very little of its crop, I had to specially order it. In a traditional multi-course meal, plain rice is served just before dessert to be enjoyed entirely on its own. Adding soy sauce is considered rude. Having failed to replicate that perfect glossy texture and subtle flavor at home, I’m finally going to try cooking the real thing.