Personal Map

So, this is cool.

"Red means I've just passed through, maybe seen a thing or two.
Amber means I've at least slept there and seen a few things. I have a first-hand idea of what the state is like.
Blue means I've spent a good amount of time in that state.
Green means I've spent a lot of time in that state, weeks at at time on multiple visits – or lived there."

 

My map suggests I definitely need to spend more time in the southeast. Making it revealed that I either have trouble making decisions, committing, or distinguishing between "a good amount of time" and "a lot of time." I'm still not sure it's perfect (should Idaho be green? Kansas should probably be orange...), but here it is.

Make your own at http://www.defocus.net/visitedstates/

Thanksgiving

This year, I'm thankful for:

-David's family, who hosted Thanksgiving here today and invited my family
-My family, including my mom and P&T,who were here; my talented and beautiful siblings, who were here only in spirit; and my dad, who's in Indiana with his parents
-My SIX living grandparents
-Living within easy driving distance of both of our families
-My wonky, charming house and mushroom-filled yard
-My sweet kittens, even Pobbes, who destroyed another (silk, a gift transported from India) scarf this week
-Scarves, Capilene longies, and SmartWool socks
-My two online classes and the technology that lets me teach remotely
-My phone, on which I'm tapping this
-My few, but tenacious, readers here

Happy Thanksgiving!

Alone

Tonight, after spending time with friends in Portland following dropping David at the airport, I'm home all alone. Not even the kitties are here; since I only just got back and it's late, they're still at their kitty cousins' until tomorrow. The house feels pretty lonely... but the thermostat did reset itself to 70 while I was gone, so at least it's warm!

Movin'

I'm on the road, tapping this out on my smartphone, which I've now had for about a month, and which has been invaluable for NaBloPoMo. It's the fancy phone of the moment (for those not in the Android camp, anyway) and is shiny, lovely, and almost certainly habit-forming. It's quite the upgrade from my 3.5-year old dumbphone--though I'm pretty sure it wouldn't survive a fall off a bridge into a semi-frozen puddle, like the latter.

David and I are heading to Hermiston from Walla Walla, where we were celebrating my grandma's 80th birthday (with more than a few Alert Readers!). It seems that we may be hosting the next gathering at the Blueplex; we shall see.

In any case, it was wonderful to see tons of family, and I was sad to have to head out a bit early so that we can get David prepped, packed, and ready to head to Mpls tomorrow for a week of work out there. At least we were able to fit in a rousing round of sibling and cousin Scrabble; it was the first game of my life in which I (with teammate David) had not one, but TWO bonus words. We'll ride that momentum the whole way back to Oregon.

 

Bonus words: reechoed and gaiters

Tuesdays

Tuesdays, I teach in Mankato.

I usually spend the first eight hours of the day prepping for class--occasionally less if it's material I'm especially comfortable with. (The class I'm teaching is Survey I, cave paintings to cathedrals, so I usually need a significant refresher. Also, I'm sort of obsessive about my PowerPoints.)

Then I drive 82 miles, which takes a little less than two hours, depending on traffic.

Then I teach for three hours. Tonight I had it somewhat easier because I showed a 50 minute film, but I'd had to prepare an earlier quiz to go along with it, so all I really saved was my voice.

Finally, after questions from students and packing up, I drive home.

Tuesdays are long.

Crema

A few weeks ago, David and a friend and I biked to a cafe about a mile and a half from our house, called Crema. We had brunch on their uber-charming patio, and then, because it was so irresistible, we had some homemade ice cream from their impressive display. Since then, David and I have been back there twice for frozen treats.

Tonight, we stopped in after dinner at the Minnow. We shared a triple scoop(!): strawberry basil sorbet, topped, at the scooper's recommendation, with banana ice cream and pineapple mango basil sorbet. It was amazing. I'm not a huge banana fan, but the ice cream tasted like banana bread batter smells--buttery and creamy and delicious. The pineapple mango chaser had just the right amount of fruity tang--plus the clean, herby hint of basil.

"This place is as good as the Patisserie!" I gushed.
"It's better," David said.
"Better?" I asked.
"It's not in Walla Walla!"

When I recovered from laughing, I said, "I would blog that--but half the people who read my blog live in Walla Walla!"

David didn't care, and here I've gone and blogged it. Walla Walla people, I love you! I love your patisserie! And when you come visit me here in Mpls, I'll take you to Crema and you can judge its wonders for yourself!

California

Well hello there, abandoned blog. I've lost track of all the things I've intended to post about here, but among them are:

• Trip to California last weekend
• My sister's visit the week before that
• Trip to Hawaii before that
• The garden! (/squirrel salad bar)
  
• M's wedding (on a BOAT)
• And even my new pillow shams

So. Here are a few of the California pictures!

Throwing pottery on the back porch

The brothers relaxing

Siblings in the back seat

El Burrito!

David & me at graduation

Becca at graduation

The siblings after graduation

Martin in his dashing ascot

The graduates

Becca and Hoosteen graduated from dental school, and it was very inspiring. Very inspiring to finish my own doctorate, that is, and to have my family come for a big party! It's time to get this dissertation done.

Phone Dump

So today was the brunch for our carni-/omnivorous friends, who just returned from Ecuador and whose kitties we had been watching in their absence. They showed us photos from Ecuador, and we showed them photos of their kitties!

We had my mom's baked eggs, rosemary roasted potatoes à la David, blueberry muffins, pineapple mimosas, coffee, and fresh fruit. Smashing!

As I was pulling kitty photos off my phone to show here, I found some others.

This is a Fruit Loops-infused panna cotta David and I had at Bryant Lake Bowl last May, complete with a Fruit Loops cookie and raspberry sauce. It was actually kind of amazing.
Downtown on a glorious May day:
Biking on the Greenway in June:"Trogdor Sez..." at the Bryant Lake Dunn Bros:
Giant PEAS! (Wow!)
Stop sign at my old corner, December:
Corner of 26th and Stevens, December:
Welcome sign to our new neighborhood, February:
View from the plane back from Indianapolis,* March:
Epic amounts of accumulated snow in our new backyard, 2/22. It stayed (most of it, anyway) until about three weeks ago. Now it's all gone!
The Greenway, early January.
I include this photo just by way of mentioning that four weeks ago, while there was still snow (though not this much), I was walking across the Greenway on a bridge like those shown when I pulled my phone out to check the time. I was on my way to yoga, and dropped the phone back into the pocket of my fleece as I hurried onward to the studio. Only, when I patted my pocket, the phone wasn't there. When I looked behind me on the bridge, the phone wasn't there. When I looked over the bridge, down onto the Greenway, I finally saw my phone--submerged in a semi-frozen puddle far below.

I contemplated leaving it for dead, or at least for later. Realizing, however, that such would certainly seal its fate--and that it would be far more difficult to locate an hour and a half later, when the sun would have set [should the cell miraculously not have permanently expired during class]--I decided to slide down the icy bank to retrieve it. I waded into the large and icy puddle and laughed as I slipped back up the bank and continued on to class. (I had slipped and fallen down the bank and was rather wet, but figured that as it was a class I always leave soaked in sweat and condensation anyway, it wouldn't much matter.)

The phone was flickering ominously when I pulled it out, and I tried vainly to turn it off using the button before I finally wised up and pulled out the battery. I stashed phone and battery in (securely zipped) separate pockets, and let them dry until morning. In the morning, the phone worked, though it did give me a brief scare when the display suddenly stopped working. However, full function returned after further drying and a hard reset, and it continues--almost unbelievably after its 2.5 year tenure--to work as well as ever (by which I mean it still tends to reset its own ringer volume, make calls and try to access the Internet from my pocket, and generally drive me crazy). The screen was slightly fogged for several days, but even that has disappeared, leaving no trace of its misadventures.

I'm glad it survived.

*Did I ever mention that trip here? I don't think I did. My grandparents celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary last month, and I was able to use a miles flight to join them, my aunt and uncle, my cousin and her husband, and my dad, who had flown from the Northwest for the occasion.

Watery

The ceiling started leaking again on Tuesday, and then again today. Tuesday my landlord had sent me an e-mail to warn me that they were clearing snow in preparation for the mythical re-tarring to occur sometime later in the week and that the dripping might start again--though for the last time. Today, my only warning was an ominous dripping sound (and these days anything that slightly resembles that noise sends me into spasms, much like anything evoking a scritch or scrabble did during the height of the Mouse Wars) and some damp clothing in the closet. The Tuesday before that, the dripping had actually awakened us, at 5:40 a.m. We heard the drops splashing on the closet floor, but it turns out the pantry was flooding far worse. There's nothing quite like spending one's first hour of wakefulness removing all the contents of one's pantry onto the already meager surfaces remaining in the kitchen.

That day I started searching for apartments in earnest.

The good news is, we found one! We're planning to move weekend after next.

This weekend, we're going to be On A Boat! My dear friend M is getting married, and I'm thrilled to be heading out there to celebrate with her. Especially thrilling? 50 degree temperature gain. Oh, yes. I can't even communicate how ready I am to trade in views of endless snowbanks for ones of water and sand. Minneapolis has been more or less monochrome for the past two months, at least, so I am SO ready for some color (though not, of course, on my own skin!).

I can't wait!

Leak-y

Here is the quick version of this winter's installation of the Leak Saga, in bullets!

• Wednesday night (12/22), having attended an ill-advised but nonetheless enjoyable showing of Billy Elliot The Musical with a friend, and having found walking home from downtown to be quicker than waiting for a bus, I was beginning, at approximately midnight, to pack for the next morning's 6:30 flight when I noticed that the leak in my closet had gotten worse, soaking a section of clothing--including ones I'd wanted to take.

• It had started earlier in the afternoon, at which point I had called my landlord, who is used to me--and presumably every other tenant of his older properties--calling about this at least twice a year, generally around the time the precipitation changes forms (rain to snow to rain, etc.). I put down buckets and he said he'd send someone over.
• I flew to Seattle Thursday morning, with the unexpected drama of the terrifyingly long security line and attendant close call on making my flight erasing any thoughts of flooding.
• David flew in the next morning, Christmas Eve, and we had a fantastic holiday weekend with my family!
• David flew back on the red-eye Sunday night/Monday morning, and as he tells it, made it to the far corner of the bed, about to turn on the light (a pull-cord model in the middle of the room) when he felt the water through his socks.
• Apparently, the leak had worsened, overflowed the receptacles, and flooded the bedroom floor.
• He had planned to go into work that day, but instead found himself calling in, mopping up the mess, and moving all of the furniture except the bed frame (but including the mattress) into the next rooms.
• The leak had spread from the closet threshold and was apparently dripping into nearly the middle of the room.
• Thankfully, it didn't get the mattress at all. It also barely touched my books, thanks mostly to a watercolor pad sitting atop the bookshelf in that room, which acted as a sponge. We'd already moved a lot of the stuff in the closet out, and since the floor is so uneven, the under-bed storage was also spared.
• The floor, sadly, was pretty warped; each board now bows in the center, so although it's not visible except to close inspection, you can clearly feel the ridges when you walk on it.
• David camped out in the living room for the next few days, sleeping on the couch.
• At one point while I was in Walla Walla, the neighbor whose apartment is directly below mine texted me to mention that the flooding in his apartment had gotten worse, wondering about ours.
• When I called David, he was already at the apartment cleaning up again, having received the same message.
• The renewed flooding was apparently due to a thaw that swept the city, warming it up to a balmy 36 and causing a plague of ice dams.
• The flooding stopped due to a combination of the workmen clearing the ~2' of snow off the roof, breaking up the ice dams, putting down some tarps, and the weather cooling off again.
• When I got home a few days later, the mattress was propped against the living room windows, the bookshelf and two dressers were in the middle room, and my clothes were hanging all over the apartment.
• I spent the next week cleaning, organizing, moving the furniture back in, doing massive loads of laundry at the laundromat, and sorting through piles of papers that had either gotten wet or just turned up in the shuffle.
• Now everything feels pretty good!
• I saw my landlord today (we're on the third day of a new, and relatively very minor, saga of him replacing the light fixture in the bathroom [yet another pull-cord model, but this one mounted on a vertical surface, and the cord of which pulls out every 1.5 years and requires complete replacement]), and he assured me that hot tar in the spring would fix the problem for at least another year.
• I hope so, because even though David was sending me renters' applications to the complex down the street, I'd really rather not move before I leave town.*
• Here's hoping!

*Though it would be soooo nice to have more than three square feet of kitchen counter space... on-site laundry... a nice, reliable management company...

Past the Future

Here's a picture I found as I was going through old folders earlier today: David and me in the Abraham shirts Brother Rockstar sent us.

Oh! I'm back in Minneapolis, after a relatively uneventful, though long, bus ride home.

Now I must sleep.

Thanksgiving

This is my pie! The crust is rather ugly, but my grandma said her mother used to say that the sheen (which the lappy webcam actually did manage to capture) was the sign of a good pumpkin pie. It certainly was tasty! Our old family recipe (off the Libby's can) didn't fail me (and neither did David's mom's crust recipe--rolled out with the rolling pin* that belonged to my great-grandfather the baker).

The pie was just one facet of a lovely Thanksgiving dinner with my grandparents and aunt and uncle: totally worth Bus Adventurin'!

*The Google tells me it's a style known as a French rolling pin--just a bar, without handles. I loved it!

Stationed

I forgot to mention yesterday that the main reason waiting for the bus is worse than being on the bus is that you have to stand in a frequently-jumped (or perhaps it just appears so, with all the "saved" spaces) line, with no guarantee that you'll actually get on the bus, since Greyhound tickets only guarantee you a seat on that route at some point, and not necessarily for your requested reservation. However, they have a new feature called Priority Boarding that is both a total racket (paying an extra $5 for a ticket I've already purchased?!) and a complete lifesaver ($5 for peace of mind that you're guaranteed a seat on the bus, not having to stand in a long line, and first shot at the "extra legroom" seats). And, really, when you're getting from Mpls to Chicago for a mere $25 anyway, that extra $5 is more than worth it.

Anyway, that was last night. This morning I got to spend a few hours in the Chicago Greyhound station. Our driver got us into Chicago almost two hours early, which I can definitely see being beneficial under certain circumstances--but not when it means two hours sitting in the Chicago Greyhound station instead of sleeping on the Greyhound bus, with its warmer temperatures, comfier seats, and quieter environment. (Our driver was a total superstar, I thought, for calling out people whose music he could hear through their headphones and asking them to turn it down, making it an especially quiet and pleasant ride.) It would have been one thing had those two extra hours come at a useful time of day, but since they were between 3:00 and 5:00 a.m., there was little else to do but sit in the station and wait for my 7:00 MegaBus (which doesn't have a station of its own and is a few blocks away near Union Station).

I foggily picked out a seat and got out my Kindle, only to be interrupted by the bellowing of a woman on a bench several yards from me. "Are we on?" she demanded. I quickly glanced over at her and thought I saw her wearing earbuds, which I assumed meant she was on the phone with someone. A few minutes later, in her rather deep, insistent, and equally loud voice, she repeated, "Are we on, America? Are. We. On!"

America, I assumed, must be her daughter, whom the woman seemed to find almost unbearably stupid, and who was doing the talking during the woman's long pauses. Her tone was certainly no-nonsense, and bordered on big tent revival preacherly; it definitely carried through the station.

And then: "I can't produce. God took that ability from me two years ago. Anybody who makes me try to produce will get killed!" Her voice rose into an emphatic growl at this last pronouncement, and I wondered if that were the sort of threat that would merit security intervention. I still thought she might be on the phone, but was increasingly convinced that she was also crazy. (I remember someone pointing out recently that it's much harder to tell the crazy from the sane these days, since we all walk around talking to ourselves--on our mobile devices.)

"They... gave me... the wrong... type of blood!"

And then the statement that erased any doubt about her sanity: "They are idiots if they think they can make blood from Kool-Aid!" That raised a small, knowing chuckle from the station. Ahh, she's just a crazy person--maybe with a sense of humor?

I returned to my reading and when I looked up later, she was gone. She reappeared some time later, tying a blue sweatshirt securely around the waist of her puffy brown coat.

Then I got up, popped my contacts in and brushed my teeth, and headed out of the station to get onto my next bus.

It Starts

Epic Bus Journey 2010 starts in 70 minutes, so I'm heading out the door to the Greyhound station! David has kindly offered to keep me company, which is really generous; the worst part of the trip, in my experience (other than uneven temperatures, as has cursed me on various MegaBus trips [about which I believe I've written here, but lack the time to reference directly]), is waiting in the station.

I'll try to post tomorrow! In the meantime, feel free to send good, soothing, happy-travel vibes my way--and good, soothing, happy-travel vibes to those of you who will also be traveling in the next few days!

Holidays

In less than 24 hours, I'll be on a bus headed for Indianapolis. As I mentioned earlier, I'm excited to get out of town and see that part of the family, if somewhat less thrilled about the very long bus ride.

I've also been informed that I'm in charge of the pie for Thanksgiving dinner. I've only made one full pie in my entire life, and that was only a few weeks ago, so it should be exciting! I'm going to try traditional pumpkin. I was assigned pie duty because apparently I have a reputation for being a good cook; I told David that was kind of like saying, "You run marathons; you should join our wrestling team!" Still, successful pie-making seems like a grown-up Badge of Honor (so many of which I still seem to be lacking; one gets so few points for graduate degrees, for instance), so I'm hoping it works out.

Anyway, our weatherman is saying that tomorrow's supposed to be the best day for travel, as Wednesday will bring more precipitation of some sort (we had more freezing rain, topped by snow, today). David will be flying that day, so I'm hoping he gets out without incident. Wednesday has been designated a day of protest against the TSA's new invasive "security" measures, so that may also add to the drama.

Apparently one way to protest is to not fly, and, as you know, I'm all over that.

Bussin'

So I just booked my Thanksgiving travel. David is flying out to the Northwest, but as much as I wanted to join him, I just couldn't quite afford it. (Have you looked at airfares recently? They're ridiculous!)

Instead, I'm going to visit my Indiana relatives, with whom I spent Thanksgivings and the other odd long weekend when I was at school in Ohio, but whom I see far less regularly these days; it never fails to surprise me quite how far my corner of the Midwest is from their corner of it!

I'll be taking a couple of overnight buses (one going and one coming), which still mostly seems like a pretty good idea, for how affordable and relatively convenient they are. I'm a good sleeper, so it makes sense to me to travel then, when I wouldn't be accomplishing anything else during that time anyway. And the non-sleeping hours are prime reading time!

Unfortunately, as I was looking into the reserved seat option on Greyhound (which, it turns out, isn't actually available in my travel area anyway), I came across a few online reviews that reminded me of quite how horrific Greyhound travel can be. Still, overall my experiences have been decent enough that I'm willing to give it another go. I'm young, sleep like a brick, and am looking forward to seeing family I haven't spent time with in more than a year. If nothing else, you know it'll be good blog fodder.

Thursday

I've had U2's "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" in my head since about 7:00 this morning, when I caught myself thinking, "I can't believe the news today..."

I am filled with impotent rage toward the electorate. Rage!

Minnesota will probably elect a Democratic governor (there will be another Exciting Recount!), but have elected a Republican senate for the first time in 38 years, as well as turned over power in the House. Minnesota. It makes me want to weep. And Russ Feingold! Erin shared this link, which pretty much summarizes what's wrong with this country. Incredibly, embarrassingly, willfully obtusely wrong.

The one thing in which I find some solace is that it appears to have been mostly old, grumpy people who turned out, and not at all a representative cross section of the populace. (The apathy of my generation is small comfort, but it does suggest that there is still hope if they'd get off their bums and/or start paying attention.) This is the article I found as I was looking for a reference to support my claim about the voters' demographic stats; I thought it was pretty great.

Anyway, there are happier things to blog about: my great trip to Lincoln, including time with good friends and their adorable children; the delicious pasta I made for dinner tonight, using just what I happened to have lying around; last weekend's Monster Dash half marathon; and, still, David's parents' visit. But those will have to wait.

My rage is tired and wants to go to bed.

Failed

So I've set a new personal record for failing at NaBloPoMo: a single day! I really did try to get online and blog, but couldn't convince the wireless Internet to talk to me and was too tired to keep trying.

In any case, I'm spending my last few minutes in Lincoln at the Mill (pictured here, sort of, thanks to Little Lappy's webam) before heading back to Omaha to return my rental car and fly home.

It has been a great trip (though admittedly more because of the lovely weather, marvelous friends, and enjoyable city than because of stellar research accomplishments), and, as always, it's a bit sad to leave. More when I return!

700

This is my 700th post here. It's also my first of yet another NaBloPoMo!

Frighteningly early tomorrow morning, I'm flying to Nebraska for a whirlwind research trip (I get back late Wednesday night), so I'm heading to bed momentarily.

Since I'll be out of state tomorrow, I voted absentee for the first time. I had picked up my ballot more than a week ago, but failed to get it mailed back in time. This afternoon, then, I went to City Hall for the first time, located the election office, and dropped it off. I already felt pretty proud of myself for accomplishing my civic duty, but what really made it worth the trip was realizing that the inside of City Hall looks like this.

I'm not quite as fired up about this year's elections as I was about the last go-round, but I am pretty upset that the party that has stone-walled the entire agenda of a president who actually did have a mandate, and made (in retrospect misguided, but certainly earnest) attempts at compromise and bipartisanship may well be rewarded for their nefarious efforts. I thought this article, upon which I stumbled as a link in someone's shared item, summed up well my thoughts on the current state of affairs.

Anyway, whatever your opinion on the state of affairs, I encourage you, as always, to get out there and vote! Don't let the crazy 15% have all the say.

Autumn

Last week was absolutely unbelievable here, with nothing but sunshine and highs in the 70s and 80s (87° on Friday!). Today hit 80° and the rest of the week is supposed to be somewhat cooler, but still sunny. You may recall that four years ago, it snowed on October 11, so this is a very welcome reprieve, especially as our September was decidedly chillier than usual.

The last Sunday of the month was lovely, though--sunny and warm enough to want to be outside, but with a distinctly autumnal crispness to the air. David and I decided to go to Stillwater (where I also ran a half marathon several weeks ago). We visited an apple orchard just outside of town, which was unfortunately rather swamped and overpriced (though it didn't stop us from stocking up on apples and other apple-related treats), and then downtown Stillwater.

We called David's mom on the way back and got her apple pie recipe. I had made a personal-sized apple pie in Home Ec my freshman year of high school, but nothing since then, and never a full pie. My results weren't terribly pretty, but were thankfully highly edible! If we get another shot at some of that crisper autumnal weather, I'd definitely like to visit another orchard (I've had good tips on one near White Bear Lake, where I ran the 20-mile again this year) and try another pie!