Pescacheegan

noun: 1. One who eats a primarily plant-based diet, but makes exceptions for fish and CHEESE! 2. Heidi

Pink and Brown

"There's our new Dunkin Donuts," my mom pointed out to me a couple of weeks ago when i was visiting. Two squat earth tone cubes adorned with bright pink and orange Ds occupied the corner to our right. "It's big news around here."

She was right, because on the way from the airport the other day, her friend remarked on the place as well. "Have you seen our new Dunkin Donuts?"

"It's just called Dunkin now," Heidi replied with information I was totally unaware of.

To be honest, I was considering the last time I had been in a Dunkin Donut. It had been a while, but I did remember the first time I was in one.

The chain came to our New Jersey area when I was 8 or so. The nearest one was about 20 minutes away, but located near the station of the High Speed Line train that my dad sometimes took to work. If he was running too late to catch the bus in the morning, my mom would throw us in the car to drop him off, and our reward was sometimes a trip to Dunkin Donuts.

We always got the same thing-- peanut donuts, which were a novelty back in those days of jelly, glazed, or powdered. And if my dad needed a ride from the station at night? Well, Baskin Robbins was right there, too. 

Spring Forward

Tan patches of unmelted snow dotted still barren farm fields like sand traps on a huge brown golf course as we drove south to Rochester on Minnesota 52 this morning, but by 11:30 the April sun was strong enough to make sitting on the sheltered terrace almost too warm. Fortunately we had frappucino, iced tea, and sun glasses to help us enjoy our hour in the sun before heading back indoors for most of the afternoon. But it was still close to 70 degrees when we emerged at 6 PM, and the lingering daylight of the north held the evening shadows at bay until after we arrived safely back at home after a long, but not unpleasant, day.

Priority Passenger

Just two weeks ago I landed at Minneapolis-St. Paul International airport as the Twin Cities were gearing up for the Final Four Finale, and it was kind of a crazy scene. Things were considerable calmer here this afternoon, dead almost, and as Heidi and I hiked from Terminal G to the baggage claim, I was hopeful that we would be out on the curb, in the car, and on the way to my mom's in no time.

The gathering crowds circling the carousels should have warned me otherwise, but it took a good ten minutes before we discovered that Air Force One was on the tarmac with the chief aboard, and that meant that all ramp traffic was on hold. Our baggage would not be on its way until President Trump was on his way to a campaign rally celebrating tax day.

In an attempt to keep informed about a situation where I was powerless, I turned to Twitter. President Trump, will you please hurry up and get out of Minneapolis airport so we can board our plane to go home? pleaded Diane.

Finally, a reporter on the plane tweeted that the TV coverage of the fire in Notre Dame had captured the president's attention, but that he had disembarked. A little while later the harsh triple honk of a conveyer belt being activated drifted down the cavernous baggage claim, stranded travelers jumped to their feet, and we knew it wouldn't be long before we would be on our way.

Wardrobe Change

Many of my friends and colleagues are headed south and west to warmer weather for spring break this week. We are headed north to Minnesota for a visit with my mom. And to tell you the truth? The weather here has been pretty mild the last couple of days, and after seeing myself in shorts-- another week of cool weather might not be too bad!

Safe travels to all!

Check that Box

A tall woman stood on the bench of a picnic table addressing a gathering of perhaps 70 people. Sunlight filtered through gray clouds and tiny new oak leaves, warming the muggy air. I was not uncomfortable in my t-shirt and flannel, but I wished I had my sunglasses for the shade they might have provided.

We were attending the annual opening meeting of our community garden, an event I have come to dread for reasons that are not entirely clear to me. Personally, I appreciate an informal structure, so it wasn't the loose circle that the assembled gardeners formed that bothered me.

Committee chairs stood where they were to deliver their reports, which worked for me, attentively standing near the center of the group, but not for those who chose to sit on the outer picnic benches. They shouted, "Can't hear you!" at every speaker, forcing them to repeat their remarks in strained voices.

There was also the standard litany of don'ts, although this year, the rules were definitely phrased more positively, and I liked hearing what I should do, rather than what I shouldn't. Finally, the meeting devolved to gripes and snipes-- members wondering why everyone else couldn't do things their way and others explaining that their way was actually much better.

It was at that point that the head gardener recalled the assembly to order. "And now it's time for everyone's favorite part of this day!" she said. "We get to work together to get the garden ready for a new season!"

Enjoy it while it Lasts!

Most of the honorees left the school board meeting during the break after the service award ceremony last night, which may have been by design since the board's main order of business was to approve the budget for next year. With a several million dollar shortfall, they were scrambling to cut line items, and one of the casualties?

Service award ceremonies.