Pedestrian View

Late August and early September have be absolutely spectacular here.  This is good because the rest of the summer was miserable – cool, wet, and climate changed.

To celebrate, Maia, our friend Andy, and I biked down to Moose Lake State Park on the Willard Munger State Trail.  Actually, Andy left us for another woman at TJ’s Country Corner in Mahtowa, but Sherry, Kylie, and Maritha met Maia and I at the park and we had our first and last camp of the summer.  A good time was had by all.

Round trip, we biked just under 100 miles in two days.  Here’s proof that I was there.

Here’s Maia in front ot Ske’s in Moose Lake (ask Kylie).

And here’s the crew in Andy’s front yard.  We look fresh, don’t we?

Snakes were sunning themselves on the trail – must be the season.  Other highlights were singing “Redemption Song” in the TJ’s parking lot with Towa from Mahtowa (random Belizian guy with a drum just jammin’), perfectly cooked hobo dinners on the fire, and a moonlit canoe paddle with my woman.  Nice.  Nice.  Very nice.

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I’m talking about my children, of course.

Last Saturday night Sherry and I were awakened about about 4:00 a.m. by our sobbing 19-year-old.  Recently returned from a year in college in Mexico, she’s back living at home.

Anyway, she collapsed on the bed with us beside herself (on top of Sherry beside me, to be more accurate), and I think it took a good three minutes (trust me; that’s a long time in that context) before she could control herself enough to tell us what was going on.

It turned out to be a bad dream about me dying.  I wasn’t expecting that.  The three of us lay there together like the last three pieces of flatware on the planet as her sob spasms spent themselves, and as weird as it may sound, I felt pretty happy.  I haven’t cuddled with my daughter until she went back to sleep since kindergarten.  I didn’t know I missed it, but it’s clear to me now that I do.

I told a lie.  She didn’t go back to sleep.  Adults unaccustomed to sleeping together can’t cuddle and go back to sleep.  Dang.  It was still nice, though.

The next day I watched her as a bride’s maid in her best friend’s wedding.  I could make parallels to the kindergarten Christmas program, but I’ll just count my blessings and move on.

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I’ve been a negligent blogger, and for that I’m sorry.   The long and short if it is as follows.  Kylie returned from Mexico May 10 in good health.  Her original itinerary was for May 20.  She is working bussing tables at the Duluth Grill for the summer, and plans to live at home and attend UMD here in the fall.

Instead of a boyfriend, she has also aquired a kitten named Caramela (Mela for short).  She just booked tickets to return to Puebla in August for two weeks.

We’re not sure who will clean the litter box while she’s gone, but Mela is slowly winning even Sherry over.

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I’m mostly impressed by my sensitivity to the pork industry.  I’ve made the complete conversion to the H1N1 moniker.

Regarding daughter x, though, who has been re-enacting the whole Romero cannon and its sequels with her friend cuacho at an undiscolsed location (stiff-limbed H1N1 victims roam the streets, moaning and pawing at the cuacho family casa where la familia brava waits behind sofa and table barracade with heavy artillery – daughter x with the Derringer), I’m unable to give too many details due to facts that I’m not at liberty to discuss.  I will, however, share what I can:

• There is a plan to get daughter x out alive
• It’s a good plan
• It’s a secret plan
• By the time the plan unfolds, it will be obsolete
• All parties are agreeable to the plan
• Kiefer Sutherland is not part of the plan
• Lobo is not part of the plan

Hopefully this satisfies all curiosities.  Sorry to rhap so mysteriously enigmatic, but one must sometimes abide by codes of conduct that can only be explained by a Federal Commission after the fact.

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My daughter Maia plays tenor sax in the Duluth Central Jazz Band.  They’ve really come together this year, and for the first time since forever, have one the festival.  Here’s their performance from the Saturday evening concert featuring Chris Caine on trombone.  Maia is right behind him.  Enjoy all 7:12.

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