all that's past is prologue...

We were lucky enough to get tickets to the closing performance of  Animate , Jack Reuler's swan song for Mixed Blood, though done at Como Zoo. We went, although live theater is tricky right now and I generally don't like zoos. Confused yet? Because that's all part of it. Animate starts with a helicopter landing and a guy with a cooler full of pangolin sperm jumping out of it to deliver to the zoo before the female ends estrus (ok, to be honest, this scene isn't crucial. But it's damn cool!). The production logistics are enormous. You are then part of a color coded group who sees various scenes spread throughout the zoo, in various animal areas, where often the actors, good as they are, are upstaged by the zoo's residents. Each scene brings up a moral or ethical issue about zoos (and zoo management), funding, racism, generational differences, love, politics, legacy, and more. None of it is too deep (these are fairly short scenes), but it's enough to at least

Don't get me wrong. I usually love big events. We attended a Big Gay Dance Party, with Beatrix in a sling, just 2 weeks after she was born. I love the exuberance of a crowd of people, the shared experience. Big performance events. I'm an ENTJ, after all.  But, as we are s-l-o-w-l-y kind of emerging from the pandemic, I'm realizing that it's the small, or even one-on-one situations that have meant the most to me recently. Spending time with my friend Joe when he was here from Boston, or Dawn, here from New York, or Randy and Diane, here from Ohio. Hanging out with Val, or Elyse, or Debra, or Ximena. Wine with Robert and Emily, or Jen and Erica. Steve and Lana's backyard, Kelly and Laura's hot tub. Walks with Carrie. Drinks on the porch with neighbors. Taprooms with friends like Sarah. Hosting our SPA Buddy family. Walks with Siobhan and Megan. A weekend at Wintermoon Summersun. So many other get togethers I am not remembering right now. Sometimes it's been *s

We have an ongoing problem with the fence on the eastern side of the Summit house. We've had it rebuilt (most recently from Midwest Fence), but it seems to consistently have structural issues. How much of this was from rotting posts (for sure some) and how much was from the Boo Radley/Mrs. Havisham neighbor on the other side literally digging a trench along his side of it, we'll never know. But the fence was collapsing, and Patrick had to prop it up last year right before snowfall. But now our friend Tami is moving in, and she has dogs, and "chase the Houdini pup" is not a fun game to play, so Patrick set to fixing it. Once he took it apart, issue #1 was not only that the posts were rotted, but also that the ground is problematic. There's a lot of clay and rock, and so the holes were not dug deep enough by the previous fine builders. That, in turn, meant the concrete was not done right, and was almost impossible to extract. Then there's that problem of the tre

Keeping it real here. We don't always get a lot of big projects done. In fact, for the past several weeks, it's been a lot of tiny, sometimes frustrating projects — or even projects we could not get done. For instance, recently I wanted to repaint a section of the master bedroom wall at Summit — only to find out that the paint had dried up and Restoration Hardware no longer made paint as if late 2020 (sigh, that's why whole reason I had been using RH paint, because they would not stop making it). I'm still looking for matching paint... So instead, I spent time reaching into the basement walls to insulate the pipes. Meanwhile, though, in better news Patrick got some security cameras up at Summit. He and Beatrix had gotten me the Eufy Cam system for Mother's Day, so that we could keep an eye on where our somewhat problematic neighbors tend to encroach on the property.   Back at Ashland, I was able to set up some fall planters with sedum split from Summit: We were als

So y'all don't love Brutus on Brewpubs — they are consistently my least-read posts. Instead, we have set up an Instagram for him and you can read them here .

I've freelanced for a long time. It can be hard, especially over the last 18 months. But as my friend Jennifer once pointed out, it also gives you the ability to focus your schedule around the important things. And today that was sitting with Mimi while we waited for MN Pets to arrive to put her to sleep. I feel like I have talked a lot about Mimi over the past several weeks, after her diagnosis and as things got worse (and the vet bills mounted). About how she was a stray that was hanging out here, and one day she walked through the door when Patrick opened it and never left. How we named her after Amelia Island. She was our quiet cat who generally just hung out in our room, and every night when I went to bed the RAN over to be there with me. It's been a hard few weeks as she felt worse and worse. The cancer/infection was getting worse, but she still wanted to be with us, and purr, and snuggle. It was last night when she could not do that anymore that I knew it was time, and

I'm too short to be a sunflower, but maybe I'm a phlox. I love summer. I depend on it as my time to relax and gain some strength, to travel, to learn new things, to spend time with family — basically, as my time to GROW. And this summer, for any number of reasons, I did not have that. We did not really travel. We did not get any great house projects done. Work is treading water in a lot of waves. I barely swam. I don't feel rested and rejuvenated. I don't feel expanded. I don't feel like any part of me has grown. Instead, I've faced a lot of hard things and ended the summer with a slowly dying cat. I feel like the garden at Ashland, which somehow got more shaded this year and did not prosper, and the bunnies ate all the seedlings, and we did not have time to tend it, and it's kind of a non-performing mess. It's like the opposite of growth.  I've been feeling really bad about it. I'm getting older, and losing a summer of growth feels like a huge w

Last year, we went to out first sunflower field , in Big Lake, on the way to the cabin. It was the perfect pandemic distraction. This year, we went to two earlier this summer. But when I found out Andover was dedicated to our fuzzy friends, I wanted to go, so we headed out with Brutus on Saturday. It did not disappoint. You see, the thing about sunflower fields is that they are filled with all kinds of people. The family with a little girl who wanted to hug "puppy" Brutus. The large Indian family. The 3 Russian ladies. The couple with the old Beatrix. Even the parents with the 2 misbehaving boys. All kinds of people of all kinds of colors and family groups and genders and beliefs. Just people hanging out enjoying sunflowers. It got extended and is open through tomorrow. Highly recommended.

Yesterday I chronicled our perfect day, throughout the day, on Instagram and other related feeds as an attempt to use Instagram more. We started with the NY Times and some good coffee. Patrick makes lovely, strong black coffee at home so we don't need to leave the house. Then we got Back to the Mat after 18 months with Yoga and a Pint . It was so perfect we became "September Members" and plan to go every Saturday and Sunday all month. See you there? Then went to the Picnic Operetta out at Alexis Bailly Vineyards. So many great connections — met up with out friends Robert, Emily, and L. Ran into friends Greg and Theresa. Saw amazing performances by Momoko, Akane, and Andrew — plus I didn't know Scotty, the creative genius behind the theater, would be singing too and he was great! And got to be out at our friend Nan's place enjoying  beautiful day. A fantastic dinner at the Gnome where we got to use up gift cards and see out friend Jessica! Some small house projects