all that's past is prologue...

"But wait," you say, "Bedrooms are things you clean every week. There is no way that they would get to a pandemic level of needing deep cleaning." You obviously don't live with a teen, or even me when I get really busy. On Friday I walked into her room and it was so bad that I called a halt on almost anything else this weekend until she finished cleaning it (and returned things she had borrowed from me, and brought dishes downstairs, and the like.) It's Sunday night and she is *almost* finished (tat least enough so that I can write this in good conscience). Meanwhile I cleaned her study room, which is the room formerly known as the "guest room" (remember those?). It looks ready for company, doesn't it? Come visit us — if you're vaccinated, that is. (Tiger Lily will move off the bed. Maybe)! I have been getting total crap sleep (you don't even want to see what my Sleep Number tracking says about it). Usually cleaning our space helps, so ...

Today, Beatrix has been cleaning her room. Since this morning, and she's nowhere near done. So Patrick and I really needed to get out of the house... Thus we headed over to Sociable Cider . I am embarrassed to say that it always feels like it's going to be a trek to get there and it's really remarkably close... It was Really Busy when we got there. The patio area (really part of the parking lot marked off with bike racks) is large, so there's plenty of space for rustic cable spool tables, very well-distanced, many with their own fire pits on top. I was impressed. We actually used "I've been vaccinated privilege" and sat just inside the front door, where there was still a ton of cross-breeze. Brutus liked this because he could be the unofficial ambassador to everyone who walked in, and we could give them each a cookie to give him. Brutus made a lot of friends today, and thus got a lot of cookies. He this ranks Sociable very high on the taproom scale. We TOT...

Today was supposed to be "Learning Wednesday" — after the morning at a client, I would spend some time gaining some self-directed professional development (maybe even at a coffee shop, now that I am vaccinated), and thencatch up on a few work projects that took some intensive time and thought. But I am finding myself really scattered after the verdict yesterday. Like pretty much everyone else I know, I feel relieved, but in an odd way. As I wrote yesterday: I wanted to believe that hours of thoughtful testimony were worth more than cookie analogies and a straw man of "carbon monoxide poisoning." I wanted to believe that the bravery of a young girl filming with her phone was worth more than the cowardice of a racist murderer. I wanted to believe that a group of 12 Minnesotans could stand up and say "enough." But I couldn't even dare to believe that until a couple of hours ago. And I still don't even know how to process it all. It's an odd feelin...

As I have posted, recently we have taken on a massive art framing/hanging project. We are far from done, as the mountain of things to find places to hang still dominates out living room. We're fortunate to have a lot of artist friends, so we have a lot of great art. And, the by-product of spending part of my twenties traveling around the world is that I have a lot of pieces from other countries as well, especially from Asia.  So when you have *too much art* (snorts, because that is not really possible), you have to find places to put it.  And then, in "Corona Cleaning," I recently cleaned out the linen closet, which gets opened every day because it's also where the cat food lives. It looks great when I look at the shelves now, and I wanted to do something to keep me cheerful and inspire me to keep it organized. So, I took some of the small frames we have acquired, and some marbled book pages we had made during a family art night at Junket a few years back, and some pa...

This weekend could best be summarized as a transition. Patrick got his second shot last Thursday, and I have had mine and hot full antibodies by next Tuesday (obviously nothing for Beatrix yet). So we are starting to take some slow, thoughtful steps about what our "New Normal" might be.  The weekend had a virtual kitchen design class, and a virtual families of color event for Beatrix's school. And Bogart's Donuts! It had hours and hours of me recording myself for the SPA Community Choir (the videos are combined together for a performance in May). The recording was REALLY hard and stressful and I think I sound terrible and look awful and it gave me a lot of sympathy for Beatrix in online learning (she's done 2 of these kinds of concerts already, plus 2 shows!) It included us heading to Prye's Brewing with Brutus, where we sat outside and everyone fawned all over him. And a fire and s'mores in our lovely, funky backyard. Today started with reading more of th...

Everyone loves scilla the time of year, but the minute you say anything about it on social media, someone posts within a few minutes that it is invasive and non-native and is the worst thing since buckthorn. Plus, the warnings about jumping worms are running hot and heavy on the neighborhood FB boards, threatening to overtake the privatization of trash hauling as Saint Paul's #2 problem. Those that are (rightfully) concerned about them are worried at how they spread and wash down into storm sewers, how their eggs are tiny and hard to see, and what they do to the soil (basically it becomes the consistency of coffee grounds and stripped of many nutrients). Their argument is that you should not plant share, should only buy from "approved" nurseries, and should be very careful about cleaning tools and not tracking dirt. Those that think that the concern is a little overhyped counter that they have been here since 2006 and are in many other places, that they are already here...

A few years back, we were getting our Global Entry cards (remember travel?). Since Beatrix was about 9, she could not go on her own to her interview, so I went with her (which had a bonus of letting me get mine done at the same time.). The officer interviewing us was a perfectly nice, Latinx man who spent some time explaining the privilege inherent in a GE card. He told her that if she were to do something wrong, like steal or drive drunk or something (again, age 9, so hopefully not soon thereafter), that she would lose the card. She listened attentively, with her trademark big eyes. "But," he said, "I'm sure you would not do something you would get arrested for, right?" "No," she responded. Pause. "Unless it was something I really believe in." "And what kind of thing would that be?" he asked. "Like protesting. (pause). Like for Philando Castile." The officer took a beat. Then he pushed aside his papers and looked at her. ...