second chances

At my last job, I dreaded Mondays because I never every got anything done. Typically, I had multiple morning meetings, and it was only after lunch that I could read and answer e-mail, as well as prioritize the week’s deadlines. Since I’ve been laid off, I’ve resented Mondays, mostly because I wasn’t reporting to the demands of an office, and, quite frankly, I found the demands of home rather oppressive.

Sometimes, I just have to write off Mondays, but this morning I had a bit of a revelation: Mondays aren’t so bad! Admittedly, getting out of bed was unbelievably painful, but once I was up, I began to look forward to, once again, having the house to myself. After I got the boys to school, I walked into a blessedly quiet home. Then I wallowed in the quiet, curled up on the sofa with a very large mug of coffee and read 100 pages of The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks.

I love the idea that Mondays can be about regrouping after a long weekend with family. Almost without exception, the house is a complete disaster. But, I can sweep the floors, tidy stacks of mail and magazines, sort through the paper output of two artistic boys, pick up errant toys, fold laundry and distribute the clothes piles for the boys to put in the drawers, and more. And I can do all of these tasks without anyone getting under foot or trailing behind me, undoing my good work. I can shop for groceries, drop off the dry cleaning, and run any other errand that the masses do on the weekend, crowding parking lots and stores. Monday is the only day of the week when I’m able to assemble dinner and slow cook something that’s ready to eat when John walks in the door.

Further indulging my me-time, I can get caught up on TV. Since the little boys aren’t allowed to watch TV on weeknights, they tend to gorge themselves on the weekend, which means that mama doesn’t get any TV. On Mondays, I can watch whatever shows are in my DVR queue. Also, I can finish those show I’ve fallen asleep watching with John so I’m ready for the coming week’s episode.

I'm glad to have a new appreciation for the most dreaded, most maligned day of the week. But now, the spinner bike and a few episodes of SATC, season five, beckon...

field trip wednesday: One on One Bike Studio

A few weeks ago, before John went back to work (yay!!!), we took a trip to Minneapolis. Our mission was twofold: to have lunch together and for John to introduce me to the inner circle of hell. We combined both action-items in a single stop: the One on One Bike Studio.

One on One is the hip North Loop bike shop (Washington Ave., in Minneapolis, cozied right up to SexWorld) that sells bicycles, clothing, and gear; exhibits bike-related art; and serves soup, sandwiches, and coffee. I just love this place, and I have reserved a spot in my heart for the sandwiches. They’re simple and homey, with just a few carefully chosen, high-quality ingredients, such as whole-grain loaf bread, corned beef, pepperjack cheese, hot-sweet mustard, which is what I had that day. Yes, I know. I could make that sandwich at home, except my sandwiches are never nearly as tasty.


Bellies happy, we descended into hell. And what I learned that day is hell isn’t that bad, especially if it's populated with…bike parts!!! Really, the One on One’s basement isn’t hell, it's a Junkyard*. It’s just that, from the descriptions, I always imagined the junkyard would be a nightmare. In fact, I’m here to confirm that One on One’s basement is a well-kept secret: a treasure chest of bikes and bike frames and bike parts that you cannot steal**, but can purchase for a steal.


And, so it was that I accompanied John to the Junkyard, as he looked for—and found—treasure. See:


*One on One's official term
**From One on One's 117 blog: Jan 5, 2009 - 7:59 pm: "Nothing brings in a new year like finding out that some dirtbag decided to put the parts in his pocket instead of paying for them. In the 7 years the junkyard has been open to the public, very, very few parts have been taken without paying. NOS Mavic 531 hubset gone out of the showcase."

souvenirs from a great day at the rink

doing

ice skating
This winter has been lousy for ice skating. The weather has either been too cold to tolerate being outdoors for long or too warm so that the rinks get slushy. Yesterday we found our sweet spot and met some friends at The Coliseum (State Fairgrounds) ice rink. I took a few laps, patiently willing my skating legs to return. Not only had they gone unused for a year, but I had practiced yoga before arriving at the rink and my quads were sore. Skating was a blast. The not-too-crowded rink had great music ("Lara's Theme," among others) and a good energy, with a bunch of kids and their parents, some of whom were awesome skaters. There was an older couple, sixties-ish, who were ice dancing. It was all so lovely, and I cannot wait to go skating again.

reading
Over the weekend, I finished reading Fire and Ice, the second book in the Warriors series. Although I had no objection to Simon reading these books, I resisted reading them aloud, which is what we wanted. But he asked so politely that I could hardly say no. I didn’t expect to enjoy the first two books quite as much as I have. The story follows Fireheart, a former kitty pet who trades the comforts of a litterbox and a bowl of kibble for fresh kill and life with a clan of cats. Against all odds, given his cushy former life, Fireheart becomes a warrior in the Thunder Clan, one of four that populate this series. Each story features shifting allegiances within the clan, as well as tales of survival in a cat-eat-cat world. Today we had an opportunity to start Forest of Secrets, third in the series.

I also finished reading Michael Ruhlman’s House and cried silent tears over his small victories as a homeowner, a husband, and a father.

listening
I’ve purchased a boatload of new music recently, which deserves its own post. But until I can get my act together, I’ve got to highly recommend The Supreme Genius of King Kahn and the Shrines, a kick-ass album of high-octane funk. It’s a bit brass-tastic. Also, I’m revisiting the twenty-plus-year old Marc et Robert from the avant French duo, Les Rita Mitsouko. Singles “Smoking” and “Hip Kit,” the latter a collaboration with The Sparks, still rock.

watching
Last night, I saw Confessions of a Shopaholic. I recommend avoiding it, even on DVD. Two pints of margaritas did nothing to improve this stinky movie, and I didn’t even have high hopes for it. But, I love going to the movies for the entertainment value. Now I’m watching the Sarah Connor Chronicles, which, in one hour, has a tighter, more interesting storyline and better actors than Confessions. I know it’s like comparing apples and oranges, but there you have it.

ipod shuffle

1. Sorrow (David Bowie)
2. Hungry Wolf (X)
3. The News (Carbon/Silicon)
4. Happy Jack (The Who)
5. Rock the Casbah (The Clash)
6. All Nighter (Elastica)
7. Peanuts (The Police)
8. City of Blinding Lights (U2)
9. Smog (Les Rita Mitsouko)
10. Dap Dip (Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings)
11. Video Killed the Radio Star (PotUSoA)
12. Don't Stop Me Now (Queen)

field trip Wednesday: Wabasha, MN, and Nelson, WI

This past weekend*, my mother-in-law and her husband visited from New Jersey. John and I were somewhat at a loss as to how we were going to entertain them. In the back of my mind, I knew we could always go to a museum, but I felt like doing something outdoors, especially since we were experiencing unseasonable warmth, coupled with sunshine. I’m not even sure how the idea made it through my brain’s thick gray matter, but there it was—the National Eagle Center in Wabasha, Minnesota, down river on the Mississippi.

When my mother, sister, and I took our October trip to Lake Pepin, Wabasha was on my long list of towns to visit, but neither my sis nor my mother were much interested in seeing eagles. I don’t think my in-laws would otherwise have been much interested either, but it seemed like a perfect kid-centric outing.

I drove the little boys. We listened to Bill Cosby’s I Began Life as a Child all the way to Wabasha, and all the way back to St. Paul, the boys laughing at the same jokes each time. The first half of the drive was pretty lackluster, the scenery dominated by endless expanses of farmland. I reminisced about the countless times I traveled to Red Wing in the 90s for St. Martin’s Press. Not once on those twenty-one trips did I ever venture beyond the St. James Hotel, which housed Red Wing Books—a travesty I corrected with promises for many returns.


Immediately outside of Red Wing, still on Highway 61 (the Great River Road), the bluffs that line the river appeared. Simon imagined that the limestone hills, with their rugged faces, were sleeping giants, as in the Beyond the Spiderwick Chronicles series, and that when they awoke, the giants would fight. Soon, we reached frozen Lake Pepin, an obvious widening in the Mississippi River. Two eagles, the first we would see that day, flew just over the tree line.

In Wabasha, we took Highway 60 across the river to Nelson, Wisconsin, where, without a street address, we found the Original Nelson Cheese Factory because Nelson is just that small. Located in a former creamery, the Nelson Cheese Factory, which no longer makes cheese, boasts a deli with a large cheese selection (including fresh cheese curds and string cheese), sausages, and imported crackers and cookies. Or, you can eat in, ordering food from a menu that features hot and cold sandwiches, soups and salads, and pizzas.

After filling our bellies with sandwiches and ice cream cones and shopping for souvenirs (spicy lamb sticks, lamb summer sausage, and skinny string cheese), we crossed the river again, through the Mississippi River Wildlife Refuge, back to Wabasha.


The National Eagle Center (NEC) sits right on the river. Prow windows cover a two-story expanse and allow grand views to nesting areas (above), where we saw—with the naked eye—a number of eagles in trees. Binoculars and telescopes gave us sharper focus on the magnificent birds. The NEC has three resident eagles (very top photo), each with damaged wings, which now are part of the center’s educational programs.

I look forward to spending more time around Lake Pepin, and I know we’ll make repeat visits to the National Eagle Center.


*Important note: the Wednesday field trip doesn’t need to have been taken on Wednesday, merely reported then, which I did not make clear in my introductory note.

field trip wednesday: france and 44th

For a year or so, on Wednesdays, I’ve posted random entries from wikipedia, a feature I borrowed (probably without blessing) from another blogger. And while I still like to spin the roulette wheel at wikipedia to learn interesting tidbits, and while it’s been a no-brainer way to blog, I’m looking for a new regular feature—something that will make at least one post a week easy and fun to approach. And so I am unveiling “Field Trip Wednesday” in which I report on little forays around the Twin Cities. This is certain to get me out of the house, as well as give me a midweek treat.

I truly needed a big treat today. My day started poorly. I felt lousy upon waking. Typically the boys take the bus to school, but only if I can get out of bed by 6:20. If I snooze, then I can sleep in ten-minute increments from an extra hour. I hate the drive but prefer not to rush the boys in the morning, especially Winston, who cannot be rushed for anything. Plus I love the extra time in the car with them.

As I was driving home [from taking the boys to school], I realized that I was feeling SAD. The sky is gray, the weather is fiercely cold, and the ground is dangerously icy. My environment is ugly and difficult to maneuver in. I’ve lost a favorite warm glove, but I can’t be bothered to replace it even though I’ll need gloves for another couple months. I’m tired of trying to fish my keys out of my pocket with the gloves on. I could cry. And I recognize that I’m SAD and PMSing so I needn’t worry that I’m finally having a big breakdown. I give myself permission to take care of myself. I decide to curl up on the couch, read a comforting book (House by Michael Ruhlman), caress my warm Thermos coffee pot, and wallow under a pile of blankets until I can face the music.

Pretty pleased with myself for writing a prescription that will get me through the day, I pull into the alley to face a Ford 350 coming my way. The truck, which is pulling a trailer, is trying to creep down the last 15 yards of the icy, steepish alley to the street, while I’m preparing to gun my car up, what are for me, the first 15 yards of the icy, steepish alley. And because the driver didn’t yield to me, I pulled over. I didn’t know I had driven into a snowbank until the truck had passed and I tried to go my merry way. Insert choice words here.

To make a long story less long, the transaction was witnessed by my neighbor Erin, who lives catty-corner across the street from where I was stuck. She came over with her contractor, who directed my tires and gave my car a push until I was free. Did I mention that it was 2 degrees? All this time spent fuming and spinning my wheels in the bitter cold snapped me right out of my funk. After expressing ample gratitude, I had one of those moments when everything crystallizes and it becomes clear that I needed to shop. Sure, I warmed up with coffee and read for a bit once I got home, but after I confirmed that there were no publishing jobs, I hopped in my car and headed to Eat Street—Jasmine Deli for aromatic and restorative beef pho and hot jasmine tea. Then, I drove to France and 44th.

Situated southwest of Minneapolis, France and 44th is a fairly underwhelming intersection, especially when compared to the snazzy shops and restaurants further south, at France and 50th, that define Edina. My destination was France 44 wine shop, which is the most notable business in the area. Although I have taken a number of wine classes here, I rarely schlep over when I need wine, especially when there are plenty of fine wine shops in St. Paul. In addition to an amazing wine and spirits collection, France 44 has an outstanding cheese counter, featuring many American artisan cheeses. The cheese shop even has a blog, which I urge you to visit. Mostly, I stocked up on wine for an impending in-law visit, purchasing a pinot noir to accompany arctic char for Friday night’s dinner, a few chardonnays for MIL’s “happy hour” spritzers, and a handful of Argentinian malbecs and Spanish crianzas to fill out our wine rack.

But, the intersection is also where you’ll find Russell + Hazel, the boutique dedicated to stylish organizational tools, such as binders, files, paper, post-it notes, and more. I love Russell + Hazel! Years ago, when the company debuted its products, you could buy them at gift shops like the Walker Art Center’s museum shop or the Bibelot Shop, but also at the grocery store. I remember buying my first notebook at Kowalski’s. Crazy, heh? Now R+H sells its wares online and at its stand-alone store at France and 44th. Among other little lovelies, I fondled a Lucite desk set, basically a tray with compartments for paperclips or rubberbands or any of the things that junk up your desk. In an effort to organize my paper clutter, particularly household records and manuals and business cards, I purchased two binders with colorful book-linen spines, metal-reinforced corners, fat rubberband to hold together, and dry-erase interior. I also selected loose-leaf paper with a slate blue rule, as well as pocket folders and tabbed index dividers to fill the binders. Plus, I bought a red file box for concealing unsightly paper piles on my desk. I’m excited to put my new organizing gear in action!

And while I was conducting my retail therapy, the sun emerged and the air warmed up just enough to help hope spring eternal.

25 random things about me (with bonuses if you've already read this on fb)

1. I own more books than I will ever be able to read in my lifetime, a fact that sometimes makes me sad.

2. Aside from kidsitting, my first job was as a lifeguard at the country club where my parents were members. The kids hated me because I would scoop the salamanders and frogs out of the pool before they arrived, thus robbing them of all their fun and forcing them to run on the wet deck, for lack of anything more exciting to do.

3. The last time I intentially tanned was the summer I was a lifeguard, and I still have the tanlines on my back to show for it.

4. Cream or milk in my coffee makes me gag, but I can only drink tea if it's white and sweet.

5. Secretly, I kind of enjoy being unencumbered by a job.

6. The first album I owned was Donnie and Marie Osmond's first record. It was a gift.

7. The last album I bought was the Black Keys' "Attack and Release." It wails.

8. The use of jargon is one of my hugest pet peeves. I agree that it can grant groups a common language, but mostly it's overused to the point where it loses all of its power.

9. During the 80s, I was certain the world would end in the poof of a mushroom cloud and had recurring dreams of nuclear annihilation.

10. Despite living in the upper midwest for my entire life, I'm a total wuss when it comes either temperature extreme. Can't stand the heat, can't stand the cold. And, I like to tell everyone I'm miserable in both.

11. I once walked barefoot across a bed of red hot coals.

12. I take sledding very seriously.

13. I once flew to Jacksonville, FL, but my luggage flew to Jackson Hole, WY.

14. All my best fantasies involve eating scrumptious food in exotic locales.

15. I am an unrepentant Francophile. I have spent more vacations in France than anywhere else. If I had my way, my next vacation would be spent there, too.

16. I am mildly addicted to the clean, bright flavors of Vietnamese food.

17. I prefer lime to lemon.

18. My biggest regret is drifting from cherished friends.

19. I can read music easily but have no ear for notes and cannot carry a tune.

20. It makes me cringe when I hear people use "reference" as a verb, when what they really mean is "refer."

21. I rode my bike across the state of Iowa, from west to east. In case you were wondering, Iowa is approximately 500 miles wide.

22. I am astonished and pleased by the thought of having spent almost half my life with my handsome husband.

23. I'm ultra nice, according to my son Winston, not ultra bossy, like kings and queens.

24. My favorite holiday is whichever one prominently features chocolate.

25. The sound of laughter is music to my ears. I was first drawn to John by his laugh, which I heard across a room before I ever saw his face.

Bonus things about me:
26. I live by former SMP colleague Jeff Cope's motto: "The only job I want is the one I already have."

27. I love the calm that aging brings but the creakiness, not so much.

28. Contrary to popular belief, given that I work in the publishing industry and devour books, I was not an English major.

29. Political science was my major, although I currently cannot listen to ANY political commentary without incurring a major headache.

30. When it comes to snacks, I'm more of a salty person.

31. Also, I swear a bluestreak, much to everyone's consternation.