Snippet of conversation at the cabin this morning:
“Mama, what’s a poem?”
“Well, poems are a kind of writing; sometimes they are really cheesy, and sometimes they are nice.”
Snippet of conversation at the cabin this morning:
“Mama, what’s a poem?”
“Well, poems are a kind of writing; sometimes they are really cheesy, and sometimes they are nice.”
“Griffin, did you just pick your nose and put it in my ear???”
“Yeah, I did do that.”
Sarah found this amazing park shortly after we first moved here last year but it was too sophisticated for Griffin. This fall, with winter fast approaching, Griffin was able to give it a shot. He was slow and cautious at first, but quickly developed confidence and new climbing skills. It was amazing to watch him learning how to handle himself on the massive play structure. He quickly dubbed it the “super duper park.” The official name is the Hyland Play Area, but most people refer to it simply as “Chutes & Ladders.” The photos below are from our last trip on October 29, and the video is from an earlier trip on the 15th.
The first snow of the season arrived today. Unlike last year’s opening blizzard (which dumped 8 inches overnight), this is a mellow snowfall, which should max out at 3 inches. Sarah and Griffin are missing it while they galivant around the Bay Area, but I suspect there will be plenty more white stuff to play in when they return.
Text message from Sarah in California:
Sleeping with G is like sleeping with a freaking flying walinda. Made it til 5 or so but he just had a poop on the potty! He said, “My poop’s hard. I need fiber.”
Just an hour from the Twin Cities lies a site that is definitely cooler than the Colossus, more magnificent than the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus (who’s heard of that anyway?), and nearly as charged with New Age Energy as the Great Pyramid. Plus it is toddler-friendly, has pink picnic tables, and is totally entirely FREE.
See for yourself:

At first glance this mid-size, older model fridge might not appear to be in the same class as the Hanging Gardens, but look more closely:

Are you kidding me? In post-Jerry-Garcia America there’s an unlocked, unattended refrigerator filled with Freezee Pops and a “Suggested Donation” sign? Even after wandering the rest of this amazing, soul-salving site, I think this fridge did the most to reaffirm my faith in humanity.
Ok, enough shenanigans. It’s taken me a while to post the pics, but earlier this month we drove out to the Franconia Sculpture Park with Griffin and had a fabulous day. For those of you not in the know, it’s a 20-acre site in the middle of nowhere (by urban standards—cornfields all ’round), filled with incredible, humongous modern sculpture. Places like this make Minnesota oh-so-easy to fall in love with.
Here are some of our favorite pictures. Click to expand.








The luggage incident was, of course, only a small part of our time in France. This was the second part of our Fabulous European Wedding Tour, and it was my (Andrew’s) first time in France. We were staying just outside of a small town called Cordes sur Ciel (built in 1222, perched on a hill, cooler than cool) about an hour from Toulouse in southern France.
When we were planning the trip my good friend James, the groom, knew that we were on a very tight budget, so he kindly suggested that we could stay in the neighbor’s “pigeonier.” I looked up the word and discovered that a pigeonier is more commonly known, in English, as a “dovecote.” Those of us who don’t live on a rural manor might still need a bit of help; according to Merriam-Webster, a dovecote is
A small compartmented raised house or box for domestic pigeons.
Hmm. I took James up on the offer, but wasn’t quite sure what we were getting into.
It turned out that the neighbors in question were stone-masons and had built the pigeonier as a guest-house. It was a four story stone tower with a full kitchen, living room, bath, and gorgeous bedroom at the apex (where the pigeons would have lived had it been a real pigeonier). Pretty awesome.
See many pictures from our trip below (click to enlarge).
We started the summer off with a bang this year and it all still feels a bit like a dream.
In a bizarre turn of events, we were invited to TWO weddings in Europe this summer that happened to be one week apart and relatively close to each other physically. The first was in the south of France, not far from Toulouse. The other was in Umbria in central Italy. As part of our policy of doing things that seem impossible (like the road trip to Minnesota with a one-year-old last summer), Sarah and I committed to going and have been working hard all year to make it happen. On June 11 (the day after my duties at school ended) we boarded a plane for Rome!
Our trip divided neatly into three sections:
So as not to overwhelm everybody we’ve divided our photos into three sets to fit with these divisions. This blog entry highlights the first part of the trip, including a few of our favorite photos. Click on any of the photos to see the complete photo album with many more fabulous pictures.
Aside from the pictures, some favorite memories included:
I often work late at school and my desk is somewhat out of sight so I sometimes overhear students talking about things Not Meant for Teacher Ears. Usually this merely piques my anthropological interest. Occasionally, however, I overhear something that requires intervention. Or not. Consider a recent incident:
My grading trance is interrupted by an unknown boy saying sarcastically to another, “Your hair looks like Ethiopia!” Sigh… I’m not sure what this means, but it can’t be good — somewhere on the spectrum from ignorantly inappropriate to overtly racist. The student repeats it, louder, “Seriously, your hair looks like ETHIOPIA!” The other student makes an unintelligible, but baffled-sounding response, while I get up and head to the commons with my stern face. As I round the bend, he repeats it a third time, “Your hair really looks like Ethiopia…” I’m surprised to see a seventh grader who didn’t strike me as the type to say this sort of thing — he’s a sophisticated, culturally sensitive boy. I open my mouth, preparing to Summon him to a Conversation, when he continues, “…see, it’s kinda round here and has a thing sticking out on the right, just like we learned in geography!” I close my mouth and they walk onward, discussing the shape of Ethiopia and other nearby countries.