I hit one of my favorite gravel roads for a short ride this afternoon between lunch and our annual visit to the pumpkin patch. For the first half of the ride, I suffered by heading into a 15mph wind. For the second half, I suffered by trying to get some energy out of legs that had been trashed from standing at the concert last night. Even so, it was a gorgeous ride. I hope I can do it a few more times this fall, and maybe even give it a shot this winter.
The view south down Ibson Road, which was about 90% of this ride:
A tattered windmill on a farm along Ibson Road. Anybody see Don Quixote nearby?
The view over my bars – though this shot doesn’t capture any of the zillions of caterpillars wandering west to east over the road. Why so many? Why were they all going west to east, and always so perfectly perpendicular to the road? Strange…
I curtailed the fussing on a walk this afternoon by showing the girls how to walk arm-in-arm, which they loved immediately. And it was ridiculously cute, too.
The girls wanted to take a walk this morning, when the air temp was about 20° but a stiff westerly breeze was sending the windchills down near zero. So we bundled up as if it were January and headed out. On the way to the front door, though, Julia grabbed a new umbrella that Nonna had brought yesterday, leading to scenes like this:
Do I even need to add that there was absolutely no precipitation during our walk? The skies were mostly blue, with a few patches of white cumulus clouds. The girls’ cheeks were a lovely shade of pink, though.
Having had a darn good time at National Alpaca Day last year, the family headed out to the Fossum alpaca farm north of town on Sunday to visit again with the bizarre camelids (and the miniature Mediterranean donkeys, and the two adorable goats). Vicki had organized the event differently this year, making it quite a bit easier for the girls to get up close to the alpacas, which made the girls (seen here with a friend) pretty happy. The alpacas were less happy, but pretty docile and very, very soft.
Though a morning outing with the girls on their bikes went quite badly, with innumerable stops and even more fussing about the act of physical exertion, I decided to risk the pay obeisance to the cycling gods by venturing to the locally-famous hills on Valley Grove Road, southeast of town. I found a nice little route that was about two-thirds gravel roads (my favorite surface) and one-third paved roads. The the toughest climbs (none longer than a mile) were on pavement, and just before I reached them, I had good look at the Valley Grove churches, two century-old Norwegian churches that overlook a swath of beautiful prairie). It was a fun hour’s ride, and wonderfully scenic, too.
(The road in the right background is the road from which I took the second photo.)
The red barn is visible from at least a couple miles away.
I requested bids for a poststructural building, but the responses were impenetrable. I have no need to “interrogate the fundaments of foyerism” or to “excavate the genealogy of basement rec-rooms.”
Julia, Skipping from Christopher Tassava on Vimeo.
(Within a half hour or so, the hop-step was much less exaggerated and the speed was much higher. The little flourishes with the hands were still there.)
As she was about to jump into our wading pool this afternoon, Julia discovered a bumblebee trying to climb up the slippery plastic walls. Without any real worry for herself, she scooped the little bug up with a plastic shovel and brought her over to me, asking, “What should we do with this poor bee?” I told her to gently put it down on the rocks around our patio, which she did. The bee wriggled for a few seconds, then crawled off the shovel and onto a warm rock, where she sunned herself for a while (extending one leg out perpendicularly from and then vertically above her thorax) before flying away. I’d say that, for a kindergartner, this was about a week’s worth of good deeds.
I had to stop on my bike ride last weekend to take in this incredible view from a bluff that overlooks some woods and fields southeast of Northfield. I wish I’d had a better camera or, say, Johannes Vermeer with me to better record the scene. My little point-and-shoot didn’t do it justice. (Click here for the full-sized image on Flickr.)
For the first time in our four summers here in Northfield, we ventured as a family to the town’s famous (or at least well-known) Defeat of Jesse James Days, a huge celebration centering on the town’s counterattack and defeat of Jesse James and his gang when they tried to rob the First National Bank of Northfield (my bank!) in 1876.
Knowing we would be able to last maybe two hours, we tried to see the “Teddy Bear Band,” which was supposed to be playing in a tent right in the center of the hubbub. In walking from our car to that spot, we accidentally wandered past one of the bank-raid reenactments, and the noise and commotion (horses! guns firing blanks! people shouting! a huge crowd watching!) terrified the girls. We hustled toward the entertainment tent, only to find that they had stopped playing before we arrive. (Note to the DJJD organizers: if your schedule says that the Teddy Bear Band plays from two until four, why did they stop playing at 3:15) Between the noise of the raid reenactment and missing the whole reason for the trip, both girls were on the verge of tears fifteen minutes after we’d arrived – and we hadn’t even linked up with the friends we were planning to see.
Activity FAIL.
Then! As we tried to figure out whether and how to compensate for these problems, and began to settle on going to the carnival for some rides, a friend of Shannon’s wandered by and offered to sell us some unused carnival tickets. One shady-looking curbside transaction later, we had enough tickets for a few rides, and off we went for a good hour of fun at the carnival – three rides apiece for the girls and peoplewatching aplenty for the “gwowmups” – or at least for me.*
Activity WIN.
This Carnival Ride Defeated Jesse James
* Though I saw more amazing things than I could or should report here, I can list my three favorite t-shirt slogans:
“I’m the coolest person here” – worn by a tween boy as he clutched his dad’s hand
“You can’t buy happiness, but you can buy the next best thing: BEER” – worn by a guy who acts on this maxim every day
“I did WHAT last night?” – worn by a sixty-something grandma walking along with her grandkids
Walking across Carleton’s campus, you don’t have to look hard to see 9/11.
Carleton’s Olin Hall of Science was designed by the prominent modernist architect Minoru Yamasaki (who also designed four other Carleton buildings), built in 1960-61, and opened in 1961. (The building currently houses the departments of psychology and physics & astronomy.) A webpage about the building says that “the three-story red brick building is distinguished by an exterior arcaded screen of white, pre-cast concrete,” as shown in this view of the building’s northern facade
Olin Hall of Science (view from the north), Carleton College
and in this view of the northeastern wing, which houses lecture halls.
Olin Hall of Science (detail), Carleton College
If that arch-heavy screen looks familiar, it’s because Yamasaki also used it on his most famous commission, the World Trade Center towers, where the screens were used on the ground floors.
World Trade Center, 1986 (via Flickr user The MachineStops)
This is what they looked like just about eight years ago right now:
The girls well and truly enjoyed their last weekend afternoon before starting kindergarten (for Julia, on Tuesday) and preschool (for Genevieve, on Thursday)…
Judging by the gauzy purple skies to the north and east of town this afternoon (seen here in a craptastic cellphone camera shot taken at my bike-ride turnaround), our streak of dry, sunny days might come to an end today.
,%20Carleton%20College-large.jpg "Olin Hall of Science (view from the north), Carleton College")
,%20Carleton%20College-large.jpg "Olin Hall of Science (detail), Carleton College")
