all that's past is prologue...

Tonight Beatrix and I went to see the 30th Anniversary concert for Songs of Hope , held at the Celtic Junction site. I've written about Songs of Hope frequently in this blog before, so you don't need anymore descriptions of it: http://prologuist.blogspot.com/2017/07/hope-for-future.html http://prologuist.blogspot.com/2019/07/someone-new-to-listen-to.html http://prologuist.blogspot.com/2012/07/better-than-olympics.html Tonight, though, was a special event for the anniversary, and featured a new film that staff members had made last year (the year everyone came back after being closed for two years for covid), and some remarks by their former music director, the esteemed mayor of Saint Paul himself: They have their last concert of the summer tomorrow night at Boyd Park — as Patrick always says, "Come for the music, stay for the tears." It's free, with a potluck at 5:30 and the concert at 6:30. You should go. See you there?

My friend Chrissy generously offered to bring us to a Loons game last night (we've never been, and still want to), but we already had long-awaited reservations to Maison Margaux , so we kept those and had a lovely dinner out! It's a new place by David Fhima, in the former Ribnick Furs building, and it's an amazing adaptive use! It has a very French flair, with an American twist. You don't feel like you're in a tiny French bistro that no one knows about, but you do feel like you are ready for a special night out with a hip atmosphere, great food, and fantastic people watching. My friend Amanda is a chef in the kitchen there, and since it's open, we got to see her work. That woman is a serious BOSS in the kitchen; it was wonderful to see her in action! (She's also a much better photographer than me, here's one of her images I stole - full photo credit to Amanda Nesgood .) We had seafood and cocktails and aligot and each were amazing (it was also amazing wa

As we left the ghost town of the Apostle last night, my friend Mike mused "I think part of it is they have a parking problem." Which I thought about as we walked back to our car, about 2 blocks away. I felt fine walking with Patrick to the car. But I don't know that I would have felt the same walking alone. I don't know that I would have felt good about about asking a single female friend to come down and meet us there last night. The streets at 10pm on a Saturday were fairly busy, but in an odd way. There were groups of younger people walking together who were not threatening per se , but behaving kind of erratically, weaving in and out like you do when you're out to be out, not out going somewhere. Literally no place that we passed — the Apostle itself, the new cowboy bar in the hotel, the head shops, Cossetta's — had eyes on the street. It felt unsafe because it felt uncertain. As we move towards fewer and fewer parking restrictions on places, I think this

Ok, think back to Little House in the Big Woods (and put aside what you have now learned about Laura Ingall's Wilder's internalized racism and other issues.) Think back to her story about how they lived on their own, but one night they all bundled into the wagon, and drove miles to someone's home, where the neighbors for miles around gathered, and the furniture was all pushed to the sides of the room, and Pa played the fiddle, and people danced, and the children fell asleep and were bundled into the wagons for the long long drive home. Think of how, as independent as those pioneers were, how much they needed that time together. Think of how they could likely not have faced the days of locust plagues, or the Long Winter, or selling off the horses, the other trials they faced, without nights like that. That's where we are now. We've forgotten how to go out, and enjoy art, and celebrate creation together. Theatres are struggling. Our favorite restaurants are closing.

Here's Patrick working on the windows at the Hague house that we're redoing. The windows are almost 150 years old. Despite being painted shut, being nailed over, breaking some sash cords and losing the odd weight here and there, having nails put through them, having the sills broken and patched with plaster, and other indignities, they have basically worked as they were supposed to that whole time. They've needed a little work to be restored to their best, but not much. Taken apart and re-glazed, the stops refastened, cords fixed as needed, some new weatherstripping (guaranteed to last 100 years). They look beautiful and work like a dream. With their storms, they are every bit as efficient — perhaps more so — than brand new windows. All at little expense and no waste, landfills, or carbon loss from destroying old glass and wood to put in new glass and synthetics — a win all around. Patrick writes about it here . ----- Then there's Summit. The part of the house that was

Like most days, today started with Yoga and a Pint. We then went to "Blurbfest" at North Suburban Center for the Arts, where Beatrix's art was in a show. We stopped for lunch at The Dutch Bar, which I had been wanting to go to for ages. It lived up to expectations! Beatrix had an audition, and then she and P ran some errands while I tried to get rid of a headache (likely from bad air quality). Ended the day with a Songs of Hope/the Eddies concert in Wacouta Commons (thanks to a STAR grant, yay for Cultural STAR!) It was fun to see lots of people we know, and they sounded great! Now home, and was going to sit in the hot tub, but thanks to the Summer of Great Expense (TM) it looks like the heater on that has died....

After years of trying, I finally learned this spring that we have been granted a $350 Lawns to Legumes grant to put in a pocket native garden at Summit! I had so many great ideas. A bee lawn! New trees! Native gardens all over! I finally settled on putting a native pocket garden along the edge of the pool, on the east side between the pool and the fence, which has always been a challenging spot. I ordered all my plants (they sell out early) and waited for spring to come! And then there was that huge April 1 snowstorm that killed the pool, and the decking, and the fence, and the serviceberry.... Too late to do anything else though. So we cleared it up and it only got worse (and no insurance coverage): So I cleared it to get ready to plant: Put in the plants but the dry spring/summer did not do much to help (and the stones out and collapsing fence made it look even worse): The ammonia already there bloomed and made it look better (though it's non-native), as did the fish sculptures w

 (sign from a NOLA bar) Probably the world does not need another middle-aged, white, cisgender woman writing about race. But the world DOES need my daughter's take on it, and she doesn't blog, so here I am. When we first knew we were having a girl, we knew she would have blue eyes, because mine are blue-grey and Patrick's are blue-green. The genetics don't vary much on that one. Other than that, we thought, with dominant genes and some luck, that she might look like her Aunt Patrice. Which she actually does. Except for the tiny little issue that somehow my Nordic genes totally went dominant rogue and she turned out to be blonde and very light skinned. (age 1.5 in the Scow family christening dress) So since she's been old enough to communicate, she's had people confused about her racial identity. She's been told she checked the wrong box on forms, she's had teachers deny her ancestry, she's had government officials question her Global Entry, she's

I didn't grow up with a pool. My mom put it in when I left for college (thanks, mom). You would think I would swim every day all summer, but the truth is I don't swim as much as I would like. But I do love the pool for so many reasons: Friday Night Pool Parties What began as a way to spend time with friends when the kids were small has evolved into a weekly ritual, where people make connections with other people, hang out, chill, grill, snack, drink, and talk. We never know who's going to be here, which is part of the fun. They might be my favorite part of summer. If you're reading this, you're invited (probably). My Aunt Pretty much every day my aunt comes and swims, with her friends Diane and Linda, or my uncle Bob as her lifeguard (sometimes if I am working from home I can fill that role). She gets great exercise, and they have wide-ranging conversations. I love this and plan pretty much all other pool use around it. (They are also a good reminder I should swim m