USDA Choice

Say what you will about meat and its health, ethics, and sustainability issues, but here in the plains states, you have a lot of options, and most of your choices are fresh and local, whether they are marketed that way, or not. Humanely raised? Organic? Those are separate concerns. Still, I confess to being a little bit thrilled to have my choice of prime rib or brisket burgers at the local grocery today.

I had to really think about it.

But I chose prime rib.

Whatever Works

We are staying in a rented condo in Rochester, MN. It is one of eight units in a new building that was constructed as temporary housing for patients at the Mayo Clinic and their caretakers and supporters. Our stay here has been convenient and pleasant: we can walk to the clinic, and there are bike paths, nature centers, and lakes (of course) nearby, not to mention plenty of restaurants, the usual big box stores, and a YMCA.

In the last two and a half weeks we have seen several other residents come and go, from a distance. Some have been here as long as we have and longer, but the circumstances and the crazy hours that we all keep, coming and going from this treatment, that appointment or test, and ultimately the hospital, has added to the natural distance that passing strangers keep.

Even so, it's curious to observe what and how other people carry on their daily lives in this unusual situation we share. Our window overlooks the street where dashers and delivery people park, and so we see mail orders and groceries and dinners on their way to our neighbors' doors.

The two young woman who are staying in the unit next door seem to order a lot of food. Amazon is a frequent caller at both of our doors, and I have heard the faintest of strains coming from a TV late into the night. But this morning? They provided a paradigm shift when at 8 AM I spotted a restaurant delivery guy making his way from the street to our common outdoor staircase.

Breakfast delivered? What a concept!

Another Day, Another Exotic Natural Phenomena

Coming in this morning from walking Lucy around our temporary Minnesota neighborhood, I noticed something curious. Where we had been seemed like a regular, grassy field, so how come my sneakers are orange?

A quick google revealed that the grasses growing there are probably suffering from "leaf rust" a condition caused by rust fungi. Wet conditions and a lack of nitrogen may make some grasses more susceptible, but evidently, it is easily treatable, and most lawns can fully recover on their own.

But what about my shoes?

Tornadic

Even though my mom lives out here, until this summer, I have not spent very much time in the midwest. In addition to the dog parks, I am loving the weather. Sure, there have been a few downpours, and even a couple of hot and muggy days, but generally the days have been a good 10-20 degrees cooler than ours at home.

There was one weather phenomena that slipped my mind, though. Despite being a big Wizard of Oz fan, the thought of any kind of tornado? Fuggeddaboutit! So you can imagine my interest when this afternoon's episode of Jeopardy was interrupted for live weather reporting about the big storms to our west.

Every update is rainbow colored and anchored by a very earnest bespectacled young meteorologist in shirtsleeves, counting down the minutes and specifics of the local warnings, including the height of the clouds, the size of the hail, and the communities that should be sheltering in their safe spots, far away from cars and mobile homes. Incidentally, every update also has the city of Rochester on its map. Oh, we're not in the target zone, but there are definitely some twisters out there!

Oh, and I also learned a new adjective.

Different Rubrics

And the dog park tour of Minnesota continues...

To date? We have been to 4 dog parks in the Twin Cities and 2 in Rochester. Each has had its own character, and Lucy's reactions were not always the same as mine. Out here in the midwest where land is not quite at the same premium as it is in the DMV, most dog parks are expansive and green, and it's fun to either watch Lucy run with abandon or explore field and wood and water all within a protective boundary.

So today when we had the chance to visit the Lyndale Farmstead Dog Park, I kind of expected more of the same. Not so... despite the name, this DP was a vacant lot with a chainlink fence and a crushed gravel surface. Shoehorned in between the Minneapolis Parks and Rec boat yard, a trash and recycling site, and some other industrial infrasructure, the only thing I liked was the canopy that protected us from the drizzle.

 Lucy, on the other hand looooooved it! Perhaps it was because it reminded her of the dog parks at home, or maybe it was just that spunky shepherd-lab mix, Cassius, who ran and wrestled with her just the way she likes, but whatever it was, she had a great time there.

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!