Over the river. . .

 “A real chick magnet,” the MaxFoot web site boasted in its pitch to seniors.  Sure enough, yesterday the e-trike drew my high school classmate and her husband for an introductory spin around the pond. The e-trike makes it pretty effortless and silent, so conversation during a trip over the river and through the woods is easy. A worthy investment for those who don’t like to sweat too much. The weather was dry, but a bit chilly. Gary, who just returned from a China trip featuring a 295 MPH mag lev bullet train, nonetheless was impressed by the 20 MPH street legal speed of the trike. Carol opted for a more sedate experience.

Somewhere in there is a tall office chair

 

The indoor project for inclement weather this year is the refurbishment of my 50-year old model of the Thermopolaye, a clipper ship that I assembled when I could squat, bend and see. No more. First I'm assembling a work station for the project, starting with a chair for the work bench. Some assembly required. May be harder than actually fixing the ship. Wish me luck.

Anywhere she wants

 

Bubbles has claimed the new fall coverlet as her own. "Ya wanna make something of it?"

Re-creation photo op

Days after her hour-long triking adventure, firmly belted into the new tricycle and gripping the arms, to her chagrin M'liss discovered that she had no photograph to document this audacious singular event. Did it really happen? Facebook friends will need more proof. A frantic phone call to the tricycle management, and a photographer and driver were quickly arranged to re-create the event for the benefit of the social media record. So here it is, visual proof that indeed, M'liss braved a tricycle ride, Friends. The oldest rider. . . so far.  Next?

Across the pond

 There was a fall chill in the air, but both intrepids were bundled and ready for their excellent adventure to Aldi’s today, on the other side of purgatory. The pair saddled up, Mahmoud doing the honors on the brand new bench cushion, guaranteed to take the shocks out of the roughest road.

Upon reaching the destination without incident, further instructions came via Fifi, as they stood listening to instructions in the detergent section. Dr. A adroitly scanned the offerings with his digital device and she selected from back at the homestead. Then over to the fruit section, for a surprise treat. 

Remounted, the pair cantered through by the long way home, viewing and approving the latest in community improvements.  A 45-minute circuit was just about enough, and so the cowhands returned to the bunkhouse, resolving to do it again soon. Weather permitting.

Shave and a haircut, 25 cents

 

It's been 30 years since Stan entered a real barbershop, saving thousands of dollars in fees, with a do-it-yourself grooming technique, that lately involved a four-headed monster electric razor. Mom cut his hair as a child, and then there was the college beard and long hair, so a trip to the barbershop has been relatively rare.

It was time. Sophie agreed to find all the little hairs that plague seniors and clean up what Stan can't see with his 78 year old eyesight. From all accounts, she did a great job, but we can never be sure.

There's an elephant in the room!

 But we don't talk about it.

Mums and Pumpkins. Yes, fall is finally here

 

Waving in the wind

 Marcy and her Mom have found the best place for a fine Tuesday lunch: The General Store in nearby Minnetonka with Popovers to die for. Amazing what the right combination of butter, eggs, flour, and milk can do. Out front there is a grassy exhibition of gorgeous grass, reaching skyward and mystifying everyone as to its origin. Any ideas? They paused for a photo, to go with their luncheon indulgence.

That's a baby, Bubbles

 

Bubbles, our curious cat, was fascinated by the visitor from Maple Grove Saturday. Ellie brought her loving parents, Dr. and Mrs. Danger, to Eden Prairie for a visit with her honorary great grandparents. She did not disappoint, at five months old. Presently, she’s headed to Hotel California, making a call there on her grandfather, Hai. He’d be here in a trice, but he has chores to do, finishing up a first class nail salon, open for business soon, another successful enterprise run by his partner, Xuan. It has a Japanese theme this time, and is sure to draw the multitudes with fingernails to fix and toes to treat.

Then grandpa will be released for duties in Minnesota.

Destination: Nugget haven

 

We don’t like the politics at Chic-fil-A, but their chicken is sooo good, that we can’t help an occasional wing. Friday was no exception. Stan and John (at right) made a run for the nuggets on the new e-trike. Then Dr. Danger (pictured above) on Saturday, then on Sunday M’liss took a ride, but alas, Chic-fil-A ain’t open on Sundays and so they returned disappointed. 

Trike rides are available now to the general public, 75 cents for a trip around the pond. Nuggets are extra. No senior discount.

Marcy's Mafia

We haven't seen these ladies in 40 some years, but a recent Chaska High class reunion, partly managed by Marcy, brought them all together to talk old times and renew friendships. Familiar faces all, we won't try to identify them, but you can zoom on to the name tags if you're interested. The event was a big success, drawing a ton of alums, who appreciated the "Back to the Future" theme and a visit to the old haunts. Michael J. Fox was a hero and heart throb back then. Remember? Well, that dates you!

Oct 1. The weather is perfect!

 

The huge windows were flung wide open and the fresh breezes swept in to the Kona Grill in Eden Prairie today for the monthly meeting of the Edible Adventures Tactical Squad. (EATS)

 John, our sushi expert, was tasked with choosing a plate of sea food for the novice, Stan, who sadly mistook the spicy wasabi blob for an avocado and very quickly realized his mistake. 

The squad gave a thumbs up to Kona Happy Hour, but with dozens of qualified eateries in the immediate area, they're not sure when they'll be able to return. Scouts are already fleshing out future possible venues. We'll report.

Apple Cinnamon Scones

 

Stan baked Apple and Cinnamon scones from the fruit delivered to us by our neighbors, Dr. and Mrs. A. The apples are particularly sweet and juicy, coming directly from above the Miller Spring location in Eden Prairie. And the scones aren't bad either, if you must know. :)

A jerkin?

 Our girls were dolling up for their annual pilgrimage to the nearby Renaissance Festival, and it reminded me of the handiwork of my sister Becky, so long ago. It was the 1975 Festival, and my talented alcoholic friend had an idea: Monk's Benches. Sure to sell at the Renaissance, right? Wrong. But we didn't know that and so Terry crafted together some beautiful handmade examples of Renaissance furniture, sure to fit into your family home. I supported him as best I could, and got a big hand from my sister, who put together an authentic looking costume for me to wear while representing the massive display of wooden art. An absolute failure, but lots of memories. The only thing I have to show for it is this fine, whatever you call it, that hangs upstairs in the sentimental section.

Fast forward to 2025, the Renaissance survives and our daughters and granddaughter make their annual appearance. I got out the outfit to remind us all of the fun and foolishness that's been going on for 50 years.

Hey, look it!

Marcy looked up from her conversation with Mom one day, glancing out the window. "Hey!" she exclaimed, "that's a gorgeous scene." And so it was. I'm sure you agree. 

Claimed

 Bubbles lost no time claiming the new coverlet on the newly decorated master bedroom. It all got started with new carpet, and we couldn't stop until we had a total look. It's not for everyone, but we enjoy the new look. And Kathleen has always had a love affair with elephants. 

45 Years and Counting

 We celebrated our 45th wedding anniversary last night at The Wildfire, where we were fussed over with steak and walleye by an attentive staff. Last year a nice young couple celebrated alongside us. They didn't show this year, but we're hopeful that their union is as durable as ours and they're out there somewhere celebrating.

Friends and neighbors like the trike!

 

Lots of takers for the new trike ride. We're still figuring out the padding and steps, but it's a definite hit. Alex and Kitty joined the happy riders. 

E.A.T.

 We gather monthly for the Edible Adventures Team (E.A.T.)  with our good neighbors, John and Lisa. September meeting was at Crave in Eden Prairie where we took full advantage of the Happy Hour hors de oeuvres menu. October is at near by KONA grill.

It's here!

Finally, after a summer of port delays, uncertainty, and 30 days in US Customs, our foreign-made Maxfoot MF 35 Landau arrived! Curbed delivery of the 90 percent assembled trike that came in a big box the size of a refrigerator. We made quick work of the cardboard and neighbor John helped with the rest. We're thrilled. The battery came charged so it wasn't long before we took a spin around the parking lot.

This powerful silent beast is a definite upgrade from our previous trike. A bench seat allows Kathleen to hang on for dear life as we navigate the myriad nature trails and sidewalks (and shopping) that surround our home at Southwest Station. Heretofore, she only looked at the creek and pond. Now we (and Alex) will be out and about in it.

Asians have a ton of experience with rickshaws, pedi-cabs and the like. It shows. So far, we haven't found anything to complain about. And no tariff.

 

Strawberries, rhubarbs revealed

 K is the most modest person I know. Never showing the slightest cleavage, double checking the window shades, etc. 

Today she brought a jar of her famous rhubarb strawberry preserves to our dear neighbors, Fifi and Dr A. He’s retired from a life of Medicine at a prestigious Saudi hospital, she is a healthy survivor of a double transplant at the U last year. Practicing Moslems, they are very tolerant of Western ways, adopting many as their own. Their English ain’t bad either. And they’ve always taken an interest in the aches and pains of friends. Kind and sweet. 

Monday Kathleen took a tumble at Byerly's grocery store while shopping there with Jordanne, her helper. She’s grateful to be just bruised, it could have been so much worse. She fell backwards and now has a huge bruise on her elbow….and buttock. 

Fifi and Dr. A had heard via text about the fall, and greeted her today with genuine concern. "The elbow will heal," the good doctor opined after checking it out. “You are fortunate it didn’t fracture. “

And now for the butt. The doctor gestured that he wanted to see her backside. The look of horror on modest Kathleen’s face, made Fifi reassure her. “Is ok” she said, “I am here” perhaps thinking of cultural norms of behaviour prohibiting a married man from seeing another man’s wife. “Is ok,” she insisted to the shocked woman who had just come to deliver a pint of jam to friends, with no idea that she’d be asked to take her pants down.

 

Fifi had no idea that Kathleen’s reticence came from a life of Catholic modesty. 

Somehow, Dr A was able to convince her and so there she stood in her neighbors kitchen, as the retired, qualified physician examined a black and blue bruise that I will never be able to show you. 

Eventually, Kathleen pulled her pants up and headed back home, now giggling to herself of the absurdity of the whole situation, but also grateful that the doctor saw no troubling aspect. 

Now to explain to her husband how a strawberry/rhubarb jam delivery can take such a surprise twist.

Summer's End

 

Last night on Rainy Lake, my friend and colleague Wayne Kasich snapped this jewel on has way home, while piloting a pontoon load of fun seekers after a day of frivolity. Enjoy your weekend, Wayne, it ends soon in our northern reaches. Our friends in Canada, who live there on the horizon, know this too.

Our daughter, not forgotten

Jennifer would have been 54 today. We all paused to remember her life too short.

 

Bob Suel eulogy

Here's the eulogy Stan delivered at former employee Bob Suel's funeral this month.

I have been asked to say a few words about Bob Suel today. That’s a problem. I write, I do not speak. But Pat and Mike said I could just read something, so, with your permission, that’s what I’ll do.

Bob Suel came to work for us sometime after his graduation in 1972. He never left us. During his tenure, we watched him become a loving husband, a father, a survivor, a homeowner, and a basement railroad engineer.. His remarkable consistency and unquestioning support were the hallmarks of his longevity. 

You could count on Bob.

When he opposed something, it was not for selfish reasons, but for what he believed was best for the company. He cherished his role in the informal inner circle of decision makers, meeting over a beer in the boss’s green room, genuinely guiding the future of the enterprise he felt was in his personal care. He was a truly rare and comforting asset when we were making difficult decisions.

Pat can recall the dreaded 2 a.m. phone calls on Thursday mornings, when something wasn’t right, faraway at the newspaper printing plant, a midnight pressmen calling for a quick decision from Bob. She remembers the relief that followed after he had solved it. Thank you, Pat, for those nights of interrupted sleep, the supportive anxiety, and helping Bob to get his paper to bed.

Bob wasn’t high tech. He reached his clients the old school way, shoe leather and friendships. His clients grew fond of his steady ways, and trusted him, relied on him. 

Whenever a competitive challenge or bad idea loomed that he felt would spell trouble for the company, he was fond of saying, “We will have to stomp on those dragon eggs” in other words, get ahead of this thing before it is big enough to bite us.

He came to work about 50 years ago. Newspaper owner Bill McGarry was a good friend of Bob’s father, the late Brendan Suel. Bill acquired Brendan’s son Bob over a cup of coffee and a donut one morning. 

Then Bill came around and told me to find a place for him. Bob thought he might like to be a writer, one of those journalists. So we sent him on a wing and a prayer to the Victoria City Council meeting.  

We decided that a better fit might be on the sales team, where he had some experience, by representing the company on the main street in Chaska. We had one telephone line and an extension phone at the time, so Bob had his work cut out. He put on a tie and went to work in a role he would never leave.

His buddies had all picked up various entry level jobs, and were astonished to see Bob going to work so soon wearing that tie. Where ever is he going, many wondered. How could it be?

Bob dressed for success from that point forward. Years later, when “casual Friday” was in vogue and his partner came to work without a tie and wearing jeans, he was quickly admonished by Bob, “Oh no, we don’t do that on the Southwest sales team” he reminded the junior miscreant.

A few years before Bob took his own bride, he did me a solid: He volunteered his father, then the clerk of Scott County court, to marry me to Kathleen and her family, under a gorgeous maple tree in Chanhassen’s Lake Ann Park. Both marriages remained durable throughout the tumult of newspaper challenges.

Bob deserved many thanks for his lifetime of service, unwavering through thick and thin. Our success as a growing firm lay squarely on his shoulders, and many others like him, who put the good of the organization above their own immediate needs. Thanks go to Bob, a good and faithful man.

Look Who Met at the Great Get-together

 

Marcy was waiting for her big sister, Missy, to arrive on the bus today, when lo and behold, of the thousands of dudes strolling the Minnesota State Fair, someone she knew! Her own son, Maxwell, out and about himself at the Fair. Didn't say if Maxwell's aunt Missy got there in time for a
fulsome family reunion. 

Cars keep steaming into the parking ramp here in Eden Prairie, as more fun seekers find the trip to the fair is a lot more pleasant on the $6 round trip bus service made to the fair front gate. The two ramps top out with the Renaissance traffic and the State Fair combined. 

Golf team

Early bird golfers: Cloid, Ashly, Jordanne's Mom Jeanne, K, Stan, Jordanne.
 

Topgolf domestic challenge

 It was deep into the third frame at the Topgolf venue in Brooklyn Center when it happened. Lord Stanley had taken an early lead in the five-way battle royal and was just settling into a second round of sliders and chips as Katie stepped into the box for her final round. 

Jordanne was there today with her Indiana mother and random friends, an enthusiastic bunch, gathered at the week’s end. Some fun seekers were top shelf driving range competitors. Some, not all.

Trailing most of the game, St. Paul Katie had put herself in a hole, and she knew it. Her golf companion for the day encouraged and steadied her, lest the force and impact of Katie’s swing send her reeling. Her first two shots were middling. Her final shot was not! She crushed the Angry Birds target completely, decimating the entire assemblage.

The crowd hushed as the official scoreboard tallied the damage. Had she kicked her husband’s butt?

Not quite, but good enough to be declared co-champion, and vowing to settle the crown in a future grudge match.

If you see something, say something!

 My dear brother-in-law tried to cheat death with a tackle box worth of vitamins and supplements. Arrayed alphabetically, the pills promised him a longer life… and probably other things too. Twice daily he sat at the kitchen table, opened the magic box and indulged in longevity.

He once told the social security interviewer that he would live forever. Must have gotten an eye roll from her. He lived in a nice two-story neighborhood in St. Paul with his younger wife. They may have been pill poppers, but never anything illegal, hallucinogenic or even fun. Never. Her sister, my wife, has claimed to have been high in her younger years, once, by sharing a communal joint, but even that story is somewhat dubious.

Then one day in his St. Paul home came the knock on the brother-in-laws door from the authorities. Yes. Two agents asking for an interview. Flabbergasted, the couple consented immediately. There had been reports of illegal activity at this residence, it seemed. No mistake. Eyewitness. This was the exact location, the St. Paul detectives insisted.

Gradually, facts emerged. The neighboring eyewitness, from the vantage point of her upstairs window. had peered down into their kitchen and seen him repeatedly. Very suspicious indeed, she said. Yes, he had flipped open a tackle box and revealed an enormous array of pills. The witness knew that no one in his right mind would amass such a collection of vitamins. It had to be drugs. Authorities were called.

If you see something, say something.

Sadly, despite his heroic efforts, my brother-in-law did not live forever. A mere mortal, he died an ordinary death at or near the table of expectancy of the Social Security Administration.

They had left their St. Paul neighborhood long before his demise, selling their home, but probably with the kitchen shades still pulled, to avoid any further reports of suspicious activity.

What can I say!

 

That's a good one!

 Emily shared a moment with a friend, long ago.

Top of the Food Chain

 Photo by Jordanne Scott

Meet the newest welder!

 

Our grandchild, Emily, just completed her freshman year at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design, and no one could be more proud than we are.

While her major is that old favorite “undecided,” her bent is toward animation and associated crafts.

But the artistic curriculum is broad and she is now a qualified welder! And she has other workshop skills as well. Who knew?

She’s always had a creative, constructive will and constantly surprises us (and teachers) with unusual talent. She’s now grounded with a summer job, directing customers at a nearby overstock enterprise and supporting a car and a closet.

We so enjoy watching her grow and are so pleased with her mother’s job in raising the perfect grandchild. Oh yes. We’ll give aunt Marcy some credit too!

She’s pictured above at grandma’s birthday party.

Back from Hotel California

 Just returned from a lovely spring at our Hotel California, a casita provided me by long-time friend and employee, Hai Dang. The annual sojourns always involve some fun construction projects, the latest there is another nail salon for his enterprising wife, already the master of a very successful one near by.

He's learned the Japanese art of Komiko and has substituted the laborious intricacies with a smart laser cutter that takes direction from software, and not a shop master. The resulting panels are spectacular and truly will make the new salon a one-of-a-kind enterprise. 

Equally spectacular is nature's handiwork on the front porch, and I arrived just in time to see it in its full glory, and present it here.

And now for our own spring entrance, scheduled to appear shortly. C'mon already.

Lucky ladies

 My wife is a gambler, she took a chance on me, but that’s just the beginning of this story.

Her handle is St. Paul Katie at poker home games, where players soon learn not to underestimate little old ladies holding good cards. It’s a family thing, she played cards all her life. As a Lutheran, forbidden to own a deck of the devil’s tools or anything fun like a cap pistol, I tease that it is her Catholic upbringing that lead her down this path. 

She does as she wishes, plays blackjack tables, horses, and so on, but never too much to regret. The lottery is a never-ending must. a little chagrinned, she discreetly always has numbers from various games. She used to consult with her late brother, with that same family trait. I try not to bother her about it, and she reminds me that she doesn’t drink liquor and I have a lifetime of savings to show for it. Point taken. I try to say that she won the lottery already. Not funny.

This weekend, in the company of her daughter, the usual please. She bought a lottery ticket, and won. Won twice, it turns out. 

She relates her tale:

“When Marcy and I were at the convenience store and I was getting the ticket, the little Asian woman wanted to know if Marcy was my daughter. Marcy said ‘yes, we are mother and daughter.'

“Then Marcy says ‘I don’t get tickets because I’m not lucky, but my Mom is.’

“Then the lady says ‘Oh, you are lucky, because you have your mom. I wish I had mine.’

“With that we left the store and I checked my tickets. Of course I was stunned and said ‘Marcy, I just won $500!’’’

Showing more than the usual wisdom you find at a convenience store, the Asian lady had spoken truth. Two lucky women, perhaps one more lucky than the other, with $500 to spend.