Listmaker Strikes Again

Tim lives in Driggs!

I can't tell you how excited I am at the prospect of Tim working and living where he belongs. I am only 28 days from following him into the West so that we can start together what I am certain will be the adventure of a lifetime.

I must voice my concern over a few things that are nagging at me prior to my own parting of ways with Minnesota. They are as follows:

My girlfriend got mold on her butter from using the butter bell that I gave her as a gift. I am currently wondering whether or not the fact that her butter bell is handmade has anything to do iwth it (mine is this assembly line manufactured pottery with little character, while hers was made by some dope smoking potter in Oregon - much more interesting, if you ask me - and I don't really know if he smokes dope, I just thing making pottery in Oregon equals smokin' dope...).

I must solve the riddle of the moldy butter bell before I leave. And if you don't know what I am talking about, that is totally okay. BUT - if you know anything about preventing mold in a butter bell, submit comment!

I am not sure how to mow the lawn, and I am not 100% sure as to why this has happened. I am a little baffled by the mental block I am having between push mower and riding mower. We have a riding mower, of course. I have never used it. Okay, Tim showed me once how to do it, when I first moved in. After that, I lost interest. Now I have to mow the lawn.

You see, you have to pump up one of the tires before you get going, and I know the starter had a problem at one point. I can't think of what other ritualistic methods are entailed to get the thing to work, but I need to act soon.

Wait - perhaps get the not so unattractive neighbor to perform said mowing with his new riding mower. Yes, but how to bribe him? Hm.

No comments from the sordid peanut gallery out there, please.

I am on my way to resolving this next dilemma, which I can assure you is the easieset to sort through.

Consequence of living somewhere that has so much varied cultural experiences to offer: you take it for granted and don't do enough of it.

Case in point: I have never been to the following places, which I intend to rectify over the next 28 days:

The Walker Art Museum
The Minneapolis Library
Basilica Block Party
Valley Fair
Sailing on one of the Cities gorgeous lakes (White Bear Lake, in this case)
Mall of America*

*This is tentative - I just cannot envision myself actually doing it. The Japanese plan whole trips around visiting this ode to American consumerism. There are people in Tokyo that have got down at Camp Snoopy while I am stilted at the thought of it.

Mind you that I have born witness to many of the sights and sounds of Minneapolis during my stay here, to include the Guthrie Theater for a three hour sixties love-in version of As You Like It (dost thou diggeth?). The Guthrie has been reincarnated into some fancy schmancy architectural marvel, and if I can squeeze in a tour before I go, mission over.

Oh, but there are more places that I have been lucky enough to see here - I have gone "Up Nort" on several occasions, visiting the park that marks the start of the Mississippi River on one of them, hiking on the Superior Hiking Trail on another. And I will never in my life regret or forget my ice fishing experiences.

I've seen NHL Hockey, Major League Baseball, and the beloved Vikings. On that note, I have frequented the following establishments, and encourage every visitor to pick any one of them (but more than one would be best, of course):

Brit’s Pub
Psycho Suzie’s
Chatterbox
The Local
Rossi’s Blue Star
Mission American

All with great people and great food - and, at Psycho Suzie's: tropical drinks served up in tacky ceramic islandware that would make Isaac "Your Bartender" on Le Love Boat green with envy.

As I go, I can only say - please come! Honestly, visiting the Twin Cities is a trip to be treasured; just be sure you get here during those two weeks in late May that they call spring - before the mosquitos and after the thaw.

I'll let you know what happens with the butter bell.