Microblog

View from the lobby of Orchestra Hall while enjoying a pre-concert glass of wine. Tonight the Minnesota Orchestra featured pieces by six black composers, including two women. The art form tends to be Eurocentric, sometimes stodgy; tonight was refreshing, mixing it up.

First day of my new weekly ELL (English Language Learning) gig with adult learners. Three classes, great attitudes and determination, spiffiest facilities yet.

Election Day is next Tuesday, but we already voted by mail today. This was the shortest ballot I’ve ever seen, with just one contest for a city council member. I’ve come around to Minneapolis’ ranked choice voting system.

Lightly drugged with Fentanyl, I saw places on a monitor where the sun never shines. “Do you mind if a student from Normandale College watches?” they’d asked. I needed clarification, so asked what she’s studying: it could be bread making. It was nursing, so I welcomed her to the party.

Next September we’ll walk with two friends along the Thames Path from Oxford ① to its source ⑥ over five days. Today I booked our hotels. Some are quite small (one has just four rooms) and few and far between. One was already booked up, so we had to juggle with dates.

I caught his attention by saying we needed a selfie to prove we were in church this Sunday morning. Of course it was a special occasion: our youngest nephew’s Confirmation at Faith Lutheran in Forest Lake, Minnesota.

Dwight sterilized soil for our next batch of microgreens, the last batch having succumbed to fungus. The kitchen was filled with an earthy scent, which was not unpleasant. He sterilizes the seeds in diluted hydrogen peroxide.

While a friend drove around and around Downtown trying to find our home, I kept the fish pie I’d made for dinner in a low oven. Fish pie is good working-class food where I grew up. I used tilapia and a small amount of smoked salmon—nothing fancy, but robust when coated in a parsley sauce.

Walked between hardscape and softscape, passing the former 1899 Milwaukee Road Depot, now a hotel event space.

Woke up to cloud-capped towers of Downtown. In the foreground, Gold Medal Park is putting on a fall display. Beyond the park, the Logitech-blue Guthrie awaits, where this evening we’ll take in “For the People,” written by local Native playwrights about the local Native community.

Cycled through fading fall colors on my way to meet a friend over coffee. A downpour on the way home was soon forgotten after a hot shower.

Cycling with a friend visiting from England, we followed the Mississippi north to Interstate 694, crossed the river, and returned to Minneapolis, lingering at BNSF Northtown Yard to be entertained by the constant train traffic and hissing air brakes.

On Sunday mornings we walk the same route, up one side of the Mississippi and down the other, about five miles. Each walk is never exactly the same. Today turning leaves, iridescent with tiny drops of dew, caught our attention.

As we emerged from Orchestra Hall, following a Minnesota Orchestra concert showcasing North American composers, we were greeted by this downtown scene.

Emily, our usual hairdresser, is in Europe hiking part of the Camino de Santiago. With a hint of trepidation, I ventured into a nearby establishment called “Men’s Spa” for a haircut. The cut was good, but I look forward to comparing notes with Emily about inn-to-inn hiking next time.

I’m making paella for dinner with Dwight’s sister, a reminder of shared experiences in Nerja, Spain. We enjoyed paella cooked over an open fire of burning pallets in a restaurant by the beach. I’ve just made the sofritos base (in the pan) which fills our home with wonderful aromas.