There's nothing like a good vacation to cleanse the mind and steady the soul, and your scrapblog editor was lucky to have one such respite last week. I spent its first few days with dear, feisty old friend Deb Farley, a native of Buffalo, N.Y., now a resident of Douglasville, Ga., whom I met in the summer of 1975 while working at Yellowstone National Park. Deb and her sister, Kathy, and later Deb's husband, Dennis Ferguson, became lifelong friends, and lived in Minnesota for a time. Deb, Dennis and I also shared an unforgettable trip to Paris and Provence in 2004; sadly, Dennis passed away in 2005. Anyway, Deb came to visit for a few days last week, and along with another good mutual friend, A., we had a terrific time, both in the city and country. Some snapshots:
Spent Saturday morning at Minneapolis' wonderful Lyndale Avenue N. farmers' market, buying cool things and food and listening to oom-pah music. Like most farmers' markets in the Twin Cities, this one is largely run by Hmong farmers who grow the most wonderful things. We were sad to hear that many of their crops were severely damaged in the recent storms that also bred the Hugo tornado.
The farmers' market polka band was very good, and friendly too. They treated me and Deb like cousins! (Probably because we all have a little, or a lot, of rosacea.)
Then we stopped by the Mill City Museum farmers' market downtown and strolled through the new Guthrie Theater, whose various ultramodern lobbies offer an awesome view of Minneapolis. A. took this photo of us in the Dowling Studio.
Outside the grand theater, A. and Deb encountered that giant of theater hisself, Sir Tyrone Guthrie.
Then, Saturday afternoon, Deb and I went to the Hmong soccer festival in St. Paul's Como Park, where we wandered among 60,000 friendly Hmong-Americans. Except for a couple of earnest white-shirted Mormon missionaries, we were the only non-Hmong people we saw there! ...
... but, say! We blended right in, don't you think? Do we look like tourists? Eh?
Then came the country portion of our visit. We drove down to Lake City for two days and used it as a base for bird-watching expeditions in Frontenac and Whitewater state parks. Above, the view from Chimney Rock in Whitewater, which we climbed on a very hot, humid, thunderstorm-y day.
Pam and Deb, no spring chickens like they were in their Yellowstone hiking days, were pooped once they got to the top of Chimney Rock in Whitewater State Park. They thought they saw a blurry laughing Buddha up there, but it could have just been their humidity-steamed glasses.
The next day was cooler and sunnier, and included a trip to the wonderful overlook at the end of the road in Frontenac State Park, above Point No Point. If you haven't been there in a while, cousins, do check it out. What a beautiful spot! No wonder it was sacred to the Dakota and Fox Indians who once prospered in this area.
Four young deer eyed us from the tall prairie grasses on the way out of the park.
Cousin Leah, up from Boca Raton, Fla., paying a summer visit to her mother, Aunt Vi, did the scrapblog editor the honor of dropping by, along with Vi, Aunt Mavis, and her two Uncle Joes, pictured above, one from each side of Leah's family. No, Leah does not have pussy willows growing out of her excellent distinctive hairdo; the scrapblog editor just forgot to frame the photo in a civilized manner. Your scribe also was tempted to sneak out to buy a top half as merry and colorful as Elmer's or Leah's, but there was no time between large hors d'oeuvres and diminutive glasses of merlot. (By the way, if you click on this photo to make it larger, you can clearly see the image of Grandma Sprick smiling approvingly over Leah's paisleyed shoulder.)
Also, old friend Angelo Gentile, whom the scrapblog editor met at UMD wayyy back in the last millennium, drove down from Minneapolis in his groovy convertible to check out Lake City and Lake Pepin, and pronounced it all impressive.
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