After years in urban ministry, economic development, affordable housing and responsbility for urban congregations spread throughout the metro area I thought I knew Minneapolis.
Not so. When I drove over to ecological gardens, Paula’s home at 4105 Washburn Avenue I discovered north Minneapolis, the one that includes Shingle Creek, the Humboldt Greenway, Victory Memorial Drive. This is a quiet leafy chunk of the city that seems somehow separate, another urban entity, neither suburb nor city.
Delightful. I love to drive around in the city, on city streets, to places I’ve never been. That chance came to me today and I had a great time.
Back home in time for the nap, but no sleep. A family I know has a terrible weight on them right now and I couldn’t get it off my mind. What can I do. What will they do.
So I got up and moved old wire fencing into the trailer in preparation for Andover recycling days tomorrow. After that I’m going to head out to the Renaissance Festival to connect with a daughter in the family. She works there and I want to see her away from home.
The fencing required my weight, jumping up and down, a tramboline of wire to get it to fit. The physical work resolved the conundrums in the chop wood, carry water way, bringing me to the present.
Some research on targeted candidates, what they say they’ve done, what others say they’ve done, how the opposition looks, then the treadmill.
After I sat with the dogs and watched Farewell, My Lovely a Raymond Chandler with Robert Mitchum as Peter Marlowe and Charlotte Rumpling as the femme fatale. Noirish and bleak. Then, I turned the TV to the jazz station, sat down and begin to type on the laptop. An elegant, dark turn to the evening.