Showing posts from January, 2020

Co(ven) Working

So does anyone remember a few years back when everyone and their brother seemed to be running a co-working space? It started with CoCo (now Fueled Collective), which is still going strong, but most of the other businesses who threw a few desks into empty rooms with the prospect of MLM-styled rent and one ancient, shared printer seem to have gone by the wayside. (see also the Wikipedia entry for We Work.) Lately there seems to be a resurgence, of which I am very skeptical. That is, until I toured The Coven's new space yesterday for their opening. First of all, it's a beautiful space that takes advantage of one of my favorite buildings in Saint Paul. Win for adaptive use. Second of all, it's well-designed. There is over 9,000 square feet of space that makes use of a basement level that does not seem basement-y at all. One winds around to multiple spall spaces with desks, comfy seating areas, conference rooms, small "phone booths," and all-around innovativ

Snow Day No Way

Yesterday was supposed to be Snowpocalypse. More than a foot of snow, starting around noon and running into the next day, everything cancelled, etc. It made for a sense of anticipation in the morning. My friend Mary came over in the morning to look at the kitchen at the Hague House, and had some fantastic ideas (plus I love spending time with her, as Patrick says, she has great energy). I had been trying to schedule a time to look at some office spaces in Landmark Center for a potential client move, but both my schedule and Amy's (the ED at Landmark) have been crazy. The snow day sense meant that some meetings got cancelled, so I was able to get over and find some good possibilities for them. I love the sense of place of that building and can't believe it was almost demolished. It also seems I know half the tenants there, so it was like old home week. So much so that I was able to nab an impromptu lunch at the new Afro Deli with my friend Elyse. And later in the day P

Ben Folds

The perfect response to a day with some hard news was to go out with friends and and see Ben Folds with the Minnesota Orchestra (and dinner at Monello beforehand was perfect, thanks for the tip, Kate Baxter-Kauf!) My friend Katharine had a New Years Resolution a few years back to see more concerts. Though that has not been one of my stated resolutions (which tend to deal with dinner parties and cocktails), it has been on my mind, and over the past year Patrick and I have seen some fantastic concerts — including Billy Bragg, Amanda Palmer, and Mary Chapin Carpenter with Shawn Colvin. So when Elaine asked if we wanted to see Ben Fold we jumped at the chance! We don't get to Orchestra Hall often enough; I was ruminating on this during the opening Brahms piece. I used to go more when I worked for arts organizations that get comps, but truth be told I'm not all that well-versed in classical music and don't prioritize it it enough when it's not made easy for me. In fact

Good Morning, Leah

It's winter in Minnesota, which means the mornings are cold and dark. Every morning the dogs wake when the heat turns on, Beatrix wakes early and puts on her clothes and crawls back under the covers for awhile, and and we stumble around to quickly get out of the house with everything seeming too dark and early. And every morning I think of Leah. Leah had a judgey streak and once when I complained about the dark winter mornings, she laughed at me for Beatrix's late school start time and said her girls were at the bus stop at some god-awful time (I think 6:30?) for their 7:30 start time. And then, for a few weeks, she sent me morning bus stop pictures. And then once she laughed at admitted that maybe she was just jealous and missed the days of sleeping in. Beatrix's school starts earlier now and so those dark mornings seem all the more sleep-deprived (or maybe it's that I am older and sleep less). And they make me miss that dialogue with Leah all the more.

Aspirational Things

I may be So Saint Paul, but there's a little of the South Minneapolis refined hippie in me (which might be why it's still kind of hard for me to think of selling the Sheridan house, though the practical me realizes it has to happen). For many years, I've always thought that, sometime to prove to myself I've really "made it," I would buy myself something at Larue's , where all the clothes are fanciful and one of a kind and cost hundreds and hundreds of dollars. So today I was passing by it between clients and just decided to pop in, and there was a great big sale rack. Which is where I found this adorable dress (that sadly does not photograph well) marked down from $348 to $49. So does that mean I have officially made it? Or are other things the signal that I have, like making another batch of lefse this week — the second batch in 2 weeks — because Beatrix wanted to share it with Girl Scouts and I kind of wanted to eat it? Sometimes I think my car i