Notes on a Visit, Part 2
Apr. 12th, 2006 11:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pameladeanOn Tuesday of the week he was here, Eric and I went to see Hamlet at the Guthrie. I'm working on a long entry about that, but in the meantime figured I would do another day in sequence.
On Sunday it rained, and the clocks leapt forward, and we had been up a bit late with the Gilbert and Sullivan and the continuing reunion and all, so we were once again grateful for the rental car. Our previous trips to Twin Cities Friends Meeting had been made by bus, which is very pleasant in its way, but time-consuming.
The person greeting people at the door was the same man who had exclaimed, "You're kidding me!" on our last visit, when Eric said what meeting he was from, and who had turned out to know people from that meeting. This time those people were actually coming to visit, though not to meeting, so Eric got to send his best wishes to them. This felt like a very satisfying kind of continuity. We loitered in the library a bit before going in, and I found a book called something like Godless for God's sake with a subtitle about atheist Friends, which made me feel more comfortable and less as if I were there on false pretenses.
We had hit a First Sunday, when parents at this meeting are invited to join their children in a separate room for singing, so the main meeting was somewhat sparsely attended. The sounds of song and laughter came faintly through the floor, enlivening the gray rainy day. There was one instance of vocal testimony near the end, and a lot of announcements, which interested Eric, since he's becoming more involved in the workings of his own meeting. I almost introduced myself for the first time, but got hung up on a linguistic puzzle and abstained. Everybody was begged to come help eat all the desserts in the basement, but we felt a bit overwhelmed by the idea and left quietly. It had been possible that we would meet a friend of Eric's with whom he was planning to spend a few hours later on at that meeting. Since she wasn't there and didn't answer her phone, I suggested that we go to Marla's (which I still call Natraj), since getting up early makes me hungry.
They recognized us, which was very pleasant. The variety of dishes has increased, but a lot of them are not Pamela-friendly. Quite enough were, however. We talked over the meeting, and talked about "Princess Ida" a bit more, and tried not to stuff ourselves too thoroughly.
At home Eric got hold of his friend and found that she was so overworked and behind that she couldn't take time off to see him. So we decided to defy the weather. It is a sad thing that in Minnesota you cannot defy the weather, drive down the coast, and see an elephant seal who has not gotten the memo about the reserved guided tour, but we had a splendid time anyway. We began at Minnehaha Falls. The creek was rushing along, the waterfall was roaring. The ice bridge was broken, and the side nearest to us looked, from the bottom of the steps, like a bird of prey (my view) and from the top, a gnome (Eric's view). It really did look a bit like an osprey, and I am sorry to say that not til this moment did it occur to me to remark that it was backed like a gnome.
The trails were remarkable non-muddy, so we walked as far as the bridge over to the deer pen, and came out again that way. Eric said that the deer pen was the place in Minneapolis that reminded him most strongly of War for the Oaks. We had another look at the falls, but it was raining pretty hard by then, so we ducked into the car, where Eric had a look at the little map that Budget had given us. Eric had refused it on the grounds that he had a native guide, until I reminded him that I was not a native guide to St. Paul. He had become curious about Highland Park and environs, which we were conveniently located to get to, so we took the Ford Parkway bridge over the river and drove around a bit. I had told Eric that if I'd introduced myself at meeting, I'd meant to say that I lived in Minneapolis but could apparently only cross the magical barrier of the Mississippi River when in the company of my visiting Friend, so we joked about that magical barrier as we drove along.
Then we saw a sign for Crosby Farm Regional Park. This was irresistible, and Eric conceived a desire to see, if possible, the place where the Minnesota River joins the Mississippi, so we found parking in a huge clearing part mown grass, now greening up, and part big circles of dried golden grasses and flower heads. It looked like a prairie restoration, but examination and signage told us that it was a native-plants garden, and thus more varied, and likely to be spectacular in summer. We saw water in the distance, and ended up walking around a smallish pond surrounded by cattails. Everything was gray or gold or brown or black. The rain pattered and hissed and dripped. In January it would have been a depressing sight, perhaps, but the smell of things and the blur of buds on the trees reminded us of the sleeping life that was already stirring. We met a number of people with wet happy dogs, but it was pretty quiet for a city park. The shape of the land was beautiful, as were the soaring, curving trunks of the unadorned trees. We had to complete our loop and go back to the car when the opportunity offered, because it was raining so much that we were getting wet and chilled, but we agreed that we would like to come back.
We got home in time for me to keep a date with Raphael. April 2 was our eleventh anniversary. I was a little worried about deserting Eric, since his friend had failed him, but he was happy to have some solitude, make some phone calls, and snack on some of the picnic supplies I had gotten in the hope of less rainy weather.
I had better stop this yammering and get ready for Minicon. I'll see some of you there, and think of others.
P.
On Sunday it rained, and the clocks leapt forward, and we had been up a bit late with the Gilbert and Sullivan and the continuing reunion and all, so we were once again grateful for the rental car. Our previous trips to Twin Cities Friends Meeting had been made by bus, which is very pleasant in its way, but time-consuming.
The person greeting people at the door was the same man who had exclaimed, "You're kidding me!" on our last visit, when Eric said what meeting he was from, and who had turned out to know people from that meeting. This time those people were actually coming to visit, though not to meeting, so Eric got to send his best wishes to them. This felt like a very satisfying kind of continuity. We loitered in the library a bit before going in, and I found a book called something like Godless for God's sake with a subtitle about atheist Friends, which made me feel more comfortable and less as if I were there on false pretenses.
We had hit a First Sunday, when parents at this meeting are invited to join their children in a separate room for singing, so the main meeting was somewhat sparsely attended. The sounds of song and laughter came faintly through the floor, enlivening the gray rainy day. There was one instance of vocal testimony near the end, and a lot of announcements, which interested Eric, since he's becoming more involved in the workings of his own meeting. I almost introduced myself for the first time, but got hung up on a linguistic puzzle and abstained. Everybody was begged to come help eat all the desserts in the basement, but we felt a bit overwhelmed by the idea and left quietly. It had been possible that we would meet a friend of Eric's with whom he was planning to spend a few hours later on at that meeting. Since she wasn't there and didn't answer her phone, I suggested that we go to Marla's (which I still call Natraj), since getting up early makes me hungry.
They recognized us, which was very pleasant. The variety of dishes has increased, but a lot of them are not Pamela-friendly. Quite enough were, however. We talked over the meeting, and talked about "Princess Ida" a bit more, and tried not to stuff ourselves too thoroughly.
At home Eric got hold of his friend and found that she was so overworked and behind that she couldn't take time off to see him. So we decided to defy the weather. It is a sad thing that in Minnesota you cannot defy the weather, drive down the coast, and see an elephant seal who has not gotten the memo about the reserved guided tour, but we had a splendid time anyway. We began at Minnehaha Falls. The creek was rushing along, the waterfall was roaring. The ice bridge was broken, and the side nearest to us looked, from the bottom of the steps, like a bird of prey (my view) and from the top, a gnome (Eric's view). It really did look a bit like an osprey, and I am sorry to say that not til this moment did it occur to me to remark that it was backed like a gnome.
The trails were remarkable non-muddy, so we walked as far as the bridge over to the deer pen, and came out again that way. Eric said that the deer pen was the place in Minneapolis that reminded him most strongly of War for the Oaks. We had another look at the falls, but it was raining pretty hard by then, so we ducked into the car, where Eric had a look at the little map that Budget had given us. Eric had refused it on the grounds that he had a native guide, until I reminded him that I was not a native guide to St. Paul. He had become curious about Highland Park and environs, which we were conveniently located to get to, so we took the Ford Parkway bridge over the river and drove around a bit. I had told Eric that if I'd introduced myself at meeting, I'd meant to say that I lived in Minneapolis but could apparently only cross the magical barrier of the Mississippi River when in the company of my visiting Friend, so we joked about that magical barrier as we drove along.
Then we saw a sign for Crosby Farm Regional Park. This was irresistible, and Eric conceived a desire to see, if possible, the place where the Minnesota River joins the Mississippi, so we found parking in a huge clearing part mown grass, now greening up, and part big circles of dried golden grasses and flower heads. It looked like a prairie restoration, but examination and signage told us that it was a native-plants garden, and thus more varied, and likely to be spectacular in summer. We saw water in the distance, and ended up walking around a smallish pond surrounded by cattails. Everything was gray or gold or brown or black. The rain pattered and hissed and dripped. In January it would have been a depressing sight, perhaps, but the smell of things and the blur of buds on the trees reminded us of the sleeping life that was already stirring. We met a number of people with wet happy dogs, but it was pretty quiet for a city park. The shape of the land was beautiful, as were the soaring, curving trunks of the unadorned trees. We had to complete our loop and go back to the car when the opportunity offered, because it was raining so much that we were getting wet and chilled, but we agreed that we would like to come back.
We got home in time for me to keep a date with Raphael. April 2 was our eleventh anniversary. I was a little worried about deserting Eric, since his friend had failed him, but he was happy to have some solitude, make some phone calls, and snack on some of the picnic supplies I had gotten in the hope of less rainy weather.
I had better stop this yammering and get ready for Minicon. I'll see some of you there, and think of others.
P.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-04-12 06:10 pm (UTC)I am also terribly fond of the Crosby Farm park which are partly happy-memory things of various ritual events there, and partly just because the wildflowers are stunning.
If you and yours are ever interested in a picnic thing that involves a firepit, I'm also really fond of the fire pit in the shelter there. You can get a nice fire going, sit on the stone ledges around the center, and it's cozy and wonderful even if the weather around the rest of the space is drizzle or worse.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-13 01:53 pm (UTC)Nice "Alice-In-Wonderland" image
no subject
Date: 2006-04-13 08:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 04:20 am (UTC)I will bear the picnic idea in mind.
P.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-17 04:21 am (UTC)P.