The Beautiful

Minnesota-Wisconsin-Illinois-Indiana-Ohio-Pennsylvania-Maryland-Virginia

I saw them all on our way home yesterday and today, and even from the interstate there were some amazing views: rolling prairies and plains, so many farms, the Mississippi River, Wisconsin Dells, the Chicago skyline, the RV Hall of Fame, the infamous GM plant in Youngstown, the Laurel Highlands, the Appalachian Mountains, the Washington Monument, the Pentagon,

and home.

It was not quite sea to shining sea, but it sure was a good chunk of America.

Turn Signal

A chill wind blew and yellow leaves were literally falling from a tree down the street covering the pavement with the first blanket of Autumn as we rolled out of Rochester this morning. I guess it was time to go. 

Present Moment

It was tempting to manage my stress by throwing everything in the car at 8 PM and driving until midnight to get a head start on our trip home, but I'm glad I thought better of it. Such an attitude might be the very definition of living for tomorrow-- neglecting what is left of this glorious weather and our last few hours here in rockin' Rochester, a place where I have been very comfortable, and happier than our situation might ever suggest.

And so we decided that once our packing was done we would have a seat and enjoy tonight-- sip a beer, watch some Netflix, and savor the quesadillas concocted from the leftovers in the fridge. The journey is unavoidable, but the road can wait a few hours.

Seasonal Advice

This far north the daylight lengthens and shortens ever more rapidly as we get closer to the solstice. Today is 3 minutes shorter than yesterday, and in the 26 days we have been up here, the days are shorter by 58 minutes. 

Back home, when they put the fall displays up at this time of year it seems more than a little premature, but here there is a golden softening of the light and, yes, an ever so slight chill to the air that reminds me unequivocally that the world is indeed hurtling forward on this trip around the sun. 

And, as my mom reminded me this afternoon, if you shop early, you have a better selection.

Just Peachy

The past few years we have traveled to Atlanta at the beginning of the summer and New Jersey at the end, enjoying family and friends and delicious peaches throughout the season.

And while this summer away from home has been filled with fun and family, it has been a summer without peaches. The crop had not quite arrived when we left in mid-July, and here in Minnesota the climate is too cold for that temperate fruit. Sure, the grocery stores are full of rock-hard specimens and promises that they will ripen in a day or two, perhaps in a paper bag, but the reality is often mushy and bland.

So, I have avoided the peaches. That is until the other day when I passed a display of Colorado peaches that looked genuinely promising. A little squeeze convinced me that these might not be too bad, and I took a chance and chose a half dozen. The next morning I was not disappointed-- they weren't the best peaches in the world, but they weren't awful, either, and they were my first peaches of the summer, and so I enjoyed them.

Later in the day, at another store, I couldn't resist a big pile of huge, Jersey-looking peaches, and yet again, a little squeeze gave me some encouragement that they might not be awful. Once again, I was not disappointed. Although far from the perfect pick-your-own peaches of my childhood, they were fine. A little cinnamon, a little sugar, a spoonful of tapioca pudding, and summer was really here at last.

Down at the Feed and Seed

Every time I cross the tracks on my way to see my mom, my eye is drawn to a sprawling building down the block. "Feed & Seed," reads the sign, and in smaller letters, "Antiques and Gifts". Oh how that sounds like my kind of place!

So today, after I had a true Dorothy moment when leaving the hospital I encountered low clouds and powerful winds which quickly swirled into a torrential downpour (so much so, that I was almost convinced that upon my arrival at the condo I would have to pound the storm cellar door with my heel), we decided to make the most of a rainy day and do some local shopping. Of course the F&S was our first stop, and it did not disappoint. In the front of the store we  saw ten foot stacks of 25 pound bags of dog, cat, and other animal feed. There was all sorts of bird seed, too, and a lot of hummingbird stuff. A little farther into the store there were fifty pound bags of water softener stacked by a tower of salt blocks and several duck decoys.

The farther we got into the store, though, the more magical it became. It was one of the most pleasing junk shops I have ever visited. Items were artfully arranged by both color and use. For example, there was a whole corner of green:  folding chairs, thermoses, oxidized copper, and farming tools.

Heidi and I spent well over an hour in there, and in the end we left with a collection of old novelty buttons and pins and four Swanky Swig glasses-- tiny vintage drink ware that first held Kraft cheese spread. Each year there was a new pattern, and so we know that ours were made in 1934, 1937, 1947, and 1948.

And they are the perfect size for sipping beer!

Peeping Lucy

We've known for a while that our dog is a window watcher. It's common to see her nose and eyes peering down at us from the window on our upstairs landing whenever we leave the house. Unfortunately, neighbors have also reported that they not only see her up there, they hear her barking, too.

One of the many things I admire about Heidi is her attitude toward behavior. She doesn't get mad; she does her research, and then she gets serious. When presented with a problem like that, she'll have several possible solutions in an hour and then she will work on it until it is solved.

It's been that way the whole month we've been in Minnesota. Lucy has been pretty good about new situations, but not perfect. There have been barking and jumping issues. She's a good dog, but she has had to work hard to understand the dynamics and expectations of a lot of new places. My mom's condo building was especially challenging-- how much of that enormous inside space did she have to protect? We figured that to her, all of the apartment doors seemed like other rooms in a reallllllly big house. It must have been overwhelming to try to figure out what was a threat and what was not.

She did spend a little time on the fourth floor balcony there, and Heidi used the clicker to teach her that it was okay for people to go about their business in the parking lot below. Even so, we caught her standing up a few times to look out the windows, a low growl rumbling in her chest.

Here in Rochester, the set up is a little closer to ours. The house-style building has 8 units, all with their own outside entrance. From our third floor condo, we walk down a couple flights of weather-proof steps to get to the street. On the way, we pass a couple of doors and windows.

The doors are familiar to Lucy-- she knows  and understands them from our complex, but the windows throw her off a bit. She is used to looking out, so we hope our neighbors can ignore it when a big red nose presses against their bedroom window!