Microblog

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.

The latest, but not the final, iteration of my LEGO gantry crane. I periodically work and rework mechanisms, frame structure (thank you Pythagoras), or Python program, but it often sits waiting for a fresh idea.

Dwight’s in Fargo visiting his mom, so I decided to watch some anime. Chose “Paprika” where dreams and reality lose boundaries. Magical realism pervades anime, as well as much of the Japanese literature I’ve read in translation, and (for me) Japan itself. I keep going back for more.

As I ate my lunch at the worker-owned Hard Times Cafe, I overheard nearby diners discussing labor history and class struggle. Later, I walked past double barriers outside Northrop Auditorium that symbolized the gulf between protesters and Justice Amy Coney Barrett.

At the end of our Sunday morning walk, stopped by Open Book for expertly prepared coffees. The space houses various book-related nonprofits, as evidenced by this gumball machine selling poetry at 50 cents a pop.

Made cookies and cream froyo with lactose-free yogurt and gluten-free Oreos. It came out creamy, thanks to the yogurt, which I had strained through cheesecloth for a couple of hours. Sugar, salt (a pinch), vanilla essence, and a tablespoon of rum all lowered the freezing point.