UPDATE:
Sometimes, I scroll back to posts written at another time and place, reminding myself of a special moment, a meal, a shared conversation. I know I'll come back to Minneapolis more than once here, on Ocean. It's the city that I feel in part is mine by incorporation: any place where a daughter resides becomes, in a way, my home as well.
I'll want to remind myself of the walk my daughter and I took last night to La Belle Vie -- just a few blocks from where she and her husband live. La Belle Vie is your stately, old restaurant -- you know the type: a flagship eatery, located on the ground floor of a lovely old building, a place you don't really go to very often (at all?) -- too expensive, too fine in all senses of that word, unless, perhaps for a drink at the bar, because there is a fireplace and there is a warmth in those old faded carpets and comfortable chairs.
La Belle Vie is closing in a few weeks, but I had a chance to visit this place this one first and last time with my girl for a predinner drink and a beautiful set of minutes (hours?) by the fireplace.
And then there was a walk to dinner, where her husband and his mom, too, joined us for a great meal (fish, dumplings, macaroons mmm!) at the bustling, modern Burch.
Meals, especially dinners, have always been an important event for my family. In planning each and every dinner -- whether it's to be cooked at home on a routine day or, in the alternative, chosen for that meal out for a special occasion (like the visit of mom!), so much thought and concern goes into the process! Because, of course, it's not just about the food. We have come to understand that dinners together matter. They've always mattered and they'll continue to matter. You save your best for that time around the table -- best story, best manners, your best caring self -- coaxed and cajoled out into the open over a dish of wonderful food.
That was my Friday evening in Minneapolis.
The next day I am up too early. I'm too eager, too engaged in where I am. Sleep is for another time. I want to begin the day.
I promised shorter posts -- here you go:
Fantastic brunch at Tilia, followed by a neighborhood walk through the Linden Hills neighborhood -- a benefit to Snowdrop, as we do Christmas shopping with her in mind! (One visit is to a glorious local children's bookstore, where the browsers were often small, cheeper sized, in fact. Yes, that's a live chicken and no, I do not understand how or if they house-train her.)
You couldn't ask for more beautiful weather or more spectacular autumnal landscapes. We have close encounters with both at the U of Minnesota Arboretum. We take a walk along paths that weave in and out of the forests, through prairie fields and rose beds, past lakes and linden and oak groves and forests that shine their gold.
After -- a drop in to the Apple House -- this, people, this is where the honeycrisp apple was born:
In the afternoon we have several memorable visits with my son-in-law's grandpa, then parents. We drive through neighborhoods of his childhood and watch the sky turn orange, then dark, from the open windows at Five Watts Coffee.
And I'll end there for today. I'll catch up with you tomorrow, but know that I truly believe that there are few days more special than ones where I spend time with my daughters (and their families!). I sit back and think -- the lives they live are genuinely good and filled with the best that life has to offer: support, grand intention and even grander effort, and love.
Sometimes, I scroll back to posts written at another time and place, reminding myself of a special moment, a meal, a shared conversation. I know I'll come back to Minneapolis more than once here, on Ocean. It's the city that I feel in part is mine by incorporation: any place where a daughter resides becomes, in a way, my home as well.
I'll want to remind myself of the walk my daughter and I took last night to La Belle Vie -- just a few blocks from where she and her husband live. La Belle Vie is your stately, old restaurant -- you know the type: a flagship eatery, located on the ground floor of a lovely old building, a place you don't really go to very often (at all?) -- too expensive, too fine in all senses of that word, unless, perhaps for a drink at the bar, because there is a fireplace and there is a warmth in those old faded carpets and comfortable chairs.
La Belle Vie is closing in a few weeks, but I had a chance to visit this place this one first and last time with my girl for a predinner drink and a beautiful set of minutes (hours?) by the fireplace.
And then there was a walk to dinner, where her husband and his mom, too, joined us for a great meal (fish, dumplings, macaroons mmm!) at the bustling, modern Burch.
Meals, especially dinners, have always been an important event for my family. In planning each and every dinner -- whether it's to be cooked at home on a routine day or, in the alternative, chosen for that meal out for a special occasion (like the visit of mom!), so much thought and concern goes into the process! Because, of course, it's not just about the food. We have come to understand that dinners together matter. They've always mattered and they'll continue to matter. You save your best for that time around the table -- best story, best manners, your best caring self -- coaxed and cajoled out into the open over a dish of wonderful food.
That was my Friday evening in Minneapolis.
The next day I am up too early. I'm too eager, too engaged in where I am. Sleep is for another time. I want to begin the day.
I promised shorter posts -- here you go:
Fantastic brunch at Tilia, followed by a neighborhood walk through the Linden Hills neighborhood -- a benefit to Snowdrop, as we do Christmas shopping with her in mind! (One visit is to a glorious local children's bookstore, where the browsers were often small, cheeper sized, in fact. Yes, that's a live chicken and no, I do not understand how or if they house-train her.)
You couldn't ask for more beautiful weather or more spectacular autumnal landscapes. We have close encounters with both at the U of Minnesota Arboretum. We take a walk along paths that weave in and out of the forests, through prairie fields and rose beds, past lakes and linden and oak groves and forests that shine their gold.
After -- a drop in to the Apple House -- this, people, this is where the honeycrisp apple was born:
In the afternoon we have several memorable visits with my son-in-law's grandpa, then parents. We drive through neighborhoods of his childhood and watch the sky turn orange, then dark, from the open windows at Five Watts Coffee.
And I'll end there for today. I'll catch up with you tomorrow, but know that I truly believe that there are few days more special than ones where I spend time with my daughters (and their families!). I sit back and think -- the lives they live are genuinely good and filled with the best that life has to offer: support, grand intention and even grander effort, and love.
