Old Man River

We made a run to yet another nearby dog park this morning-- Just 10 minutes away, the reviews rated it 5! stars.

And
it
was!

Located in Minnehaha Park, a single chainlink gate led to a steady downhill forested trail. There must have been at least 10 dogs and their owners gleefully tramping along with us as we made our way down, down, down...

to the Mississippi River!

Yes! The park included a dog beach that ran along the shores of a lazy bend in that iconic river. Perhaps a hundred feet across from us boaters backed their trailers down a ramp before speeding off to fish, explore, and ski, but on . our side it was all dog! They dashed and splashed and swam and ran joyfully. Lucy loved it!

And when at last it was time for us to head back up the trail to our car, there was a spring in our step and satisfaction all around.

One Way

"That's a stop sign!" my mom warned me as I sped toward an intersection on our way to Target.

I slowed in time, and then shrugged. "It was four-way," I laughed, but I was also problem-solving the near miss.

We had just passed the YMCA near her home, and Mom had asked me where ours was at home. As I eased through the stop sign, I realized that I was 1000 miles away in the navigation part of my brain, visualizing the directions to get to the Y in Arlington. When I almost missed the next turn, I ended the conversation and focused on the route ahead.

Turns out? I can't be in two places at once and follow the rules of the road!

Urban Legend

We were walking Lucy down a nice, middle class neighborhood street yesterday when a beat up van with tinted windows pulled up beside us. Inside were a sketchy-looking couple in their thirties. She was driving; he rolled down the window; she leaned over and called to us. "Have you seen our puppies? They got out, and they're missing!"

"That's terrible!" Heidi replied. "But no, we haven't seen them. Sorry."

The van rolled slowly away.

"Oh my gosh!" I said. "They need another approach! I totally thought they were going to offer us candy and ask us to get in and help them look!" 

Intersection

Worlds collide here at the Mayo.

I stood at a 7th floor window looking down on the weekly summer festival that they have every Thursday here in Rochester. An hour before, Heidi, my mom, and I been down there, sitting at a cafe table in the shade of a high rise enjoying lobster rolls, rotisserie chicken and fish tacos. The main stage was below me, and the canopies and carts stretched beyond my sight, but I knew the arts and crafts and henna and CBD and dog fashion and popcorn and giant cookies and fine food and beverages were offered along three blocks, ending in a whole other stage.

Two women in colorful head scarfs chatted on a bench. Five folks on scooters (Lyme just rolled them out here last week) rolled up to a raised garden and parked along the circle right outside the Gonda Building 2nd street entrance. A young couple, both colorfully tattooed, pushed a patient in a wheel chair toward the elevator. To my right, I caught the strains of a conversation I couldn't ignore: Ashley has the championship pig! a woman told the man in the ball cap sitting next to her in a plush leather chair.

The diversity was staggering. And yet? I knew we were are all drawn there by human need.

Just then, Heidi and my mom returned from the ladies room and we headed to the elevator.

Change of Venue

We spent the afternoon cleaning-- and I kind of liked it. There's something very manageable about maintaining a new and relatively empty space, such as the condo we are renting here in Rochester. Heidi and my mom did the bathrooms while I vacuumed, then they dusted and wiped the counters while I shook out the small area rugs and mopped the floors. In no time we were relaxing in our tidy tree-top apartment, and I, personally, was wondering why the same jobs seem just so onerous at home.

Mayo on the Side

If you have to spend your day at the doctors, the Mayo Clinic is certainly the place to be. In addition to being US News's number one health care facility in the nation, it is beautiful, comfortable, and full of kind and helpful people. In addition to upscale office furnishings, spacious waiting rooms are also outfitted with leather arm chairs, recliners, and tables and chairs. The views from many of the spaces are expansive; the city of Rochester spreads grandly below the high rise windows. Oh, and the art? World class-- my mom and I just happened to pass a series of five floor to ceiling lithographs by Joan Miro on our way to a lab appointment this afternoon.

Even so, a day there is still a day floating like a leaf down the unpredictable river of health care. After waiting for 2 hours in the most comfortable chairs with a most amazing view, we were finally led back to an exam room, where we waited at least 45 minutes longer. So long in fact that my mom had to use the restroom. Returning through the stark white maze behind the curtain, she lost her way and had to ask for direction at the desk. "We're in room 222 in case you need to know," she reported upon her return.

"Room 222?" I exclaimed. "Like the show!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Heidi said.

"What?" I replied. "Mr. Dixon? Karen Valentine?"

She shook her head.

Since I had already completed the sudoku, cryptogram, jumble, and crossword puzzle, and no medical personnel were beating down our door, I googled the show and found a full episode. As the theme music played, I automatically hummed along. "Here comes Mr. Dixon in his convertible!" I said as Lloyd Haines parked his cool orange car in the Whitman High lot.

Over the next few minutes I was wowed by how progressive the show was for 50 years ago. Created by James L. Brooks (his next gig would be The Mary Tyler Moore Show), it was idealized to be sure, but it presented a diverse high school with a diverse staff, and the protagonist was an African American man who I remember loving when I was a kid. It was humorous, but not laugh out loud funny.

How did we even watch this show? I wondered, and the answer was right on Wikipedia-- it aired on Friday night, right after The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family.

And yet, no endless reruns in syndication? But before I could ponder that mystery of popular culture, the doctor appeared at last.

Mama Bear

We were on our way home from the dog park when all heck broke out the car. "Something's wrong with Lucy!" Heidi cried. "She won't settle! I think it's a... BUG!"

Heidi hates bugs.

"What kind of bug?" I asked.

"I don't know! I can't see it! It's there though! I think it bit her!" Panic was rising in Heidi's voice.

"Should I pull over?" I asked, scanning the road for turn-offs and seeing none.

"It's some kind of fly!" Heidi reported.

"A deerfly?" There was one on our windshield when we left the park, and I had felt lucky we hadn't seen any before that. "Is it small and arrow-shaped?"

"That's it!" Heidi said. "It's trying to get her!"

"Swat at it so it doesn't land on her until I can find a place to stop," I advised.

"Oh my god!" Heidi gasped. "I GOT IT!"

Yes! With one mighty smack, Heidi had rescued Lucy from the evil deerfly.

"When it comes to saving my baby," she continued, "I don't play!"