A Glimpse of the Good City thru' the Smoke

Happy Almost Summer Solstice! (It's Weds. June 23, 9:57 a.m. Central.) I'm going to watch Smiles of a Summer Night (free on utube).

I woke up feeling energetic yesterday, after two weeks of dragging around--that return of energy is the best.
This year I've been extra aware that one day, easy health won't return... I'm scared and sad about that, and I extra enjoy my good health while it's here!

BELOW: Oneshoe and Spike practiced for a Welcome Solstice Parade this morning. They report, "There is a distinct lack of musical instruments for dolls in this house." (Must make some before Wednesday.)

Behind them, the boulevard wheat springeth green... Doesn't wheat need water? I guess the city planted a drought-resistant variety. We are dry, dry, dry.

And, last week, smoky! The sky was foggy yellow from the Canadian wildfires.
This, below, wasn't even the worst of it--the AQI got up in the 220s--worst air in the country that day.
We were lucky though, with only 1 day of thick smoke (so far). I'm glad I was wearing a face mask anyway, for my cough and to protect against dust at work.

Now we are lingering in the Moderate range (AQI 80s). Not great, but the temps were so pleasant, I had dinner outside at bink & Maura's last night--here, with their wire-haired fox terrier, Astro. His mouth is dirty because he loves to dig in the dirt with his mouth.

A Spotty System

I was on a roll of complaining about work recently. I went back and edited the posts where I went on and on about it. It was good to write it out, but I don't want it lingering like Bad Air.

Yesterday I checked in with newish (3 months) coworker mattdamon, after I complained about something--was I being too negative? "I really love this place, I hope I express that too."

"No, I'm glad you speak up," he said. "It makes me know I'm not crazy. I'd say this place has systemic problems... but we don't even have a system!"

I laughed. "Yeah, last year I read the book Five Dysfunctions of a Team. We have all five dysfunctions, but we don't have a team."

But MY team--me!--has been working well. Only one manager was working yesterday--Ass't Man--so with that and the return of energy, I felt free to futz and faff for my whole shift.
I filled a bucket with hot water and a capful of mango-scented Fabuloso and washed down my display shelves.
(A volunteer who is a retired doctor complains about the chemical cleaners we buy--"Why don't we use something nontoxic?"--but my coworkers love Fabuloso--they say it smells clean. As problems with the store goes, this one is so minor, I don't even care.)

The colorful carpet I'd put down a few weeks ago has spots of grunge on it, so after washing the shelves, I got on my knees and scrubbed the spots. Without realizing it, I was also singing along to the R&B radio we play--a customer commented on how much fun I was having.

My City

Later that day, a young Native man asked me if we had a section of books about Native concerns.
We don't, I said, because those books always sell as fast as I put them out, so there's never enough to keep a section stocked. I pointed him to the History section, but said I didn't think there were any in stock...

While he looked there (I was right), I browsed the Fiction section and found Louise Erdrich's first book, Love Medicine, and Sherman Alexie's Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven--with the short story that was made into Smoke Signals--a favorite movie of mine.
The young man was surprised--he didn't know about either author (both Native). He thanked me and left with both books.

Louise Erdrich lives right here in town, where she founded the indie Birchbark Books & Native Arts (good website). I live about halfway between the thrift store and Birchbark. It's on the other side of Lake of the Isles-- I'll stop in when I walk around the lake--for fun--I rarely buy full-price books.
Erdrich has said in the past that the store makes no profit--does it even break even?--and she runs it for the sake of supporting BOOKS.

Another good business in town is Peace Coffee--not far from the thrift store, further toward the Mississippi River. They deliver their beans (fair trade, organic) by bike. Yesterday one of their bike couriers came up on me biking to work on the Greenway, going so fast I thought it was an e-bike, but as they passed--nope, it was a young biker pedaling full speed.
By the time I got my camera out, they were almost out of sight, but here, I magnified them with their low-slung red delivery cart:

BELOW: Here's another nice thing I bike past--a homemade shrine to a dead guy--I don't know his story--but it includes a doll house that people leave things in.
Maybe one day I will make a Protector for it...

The other day near this altar, I saw an older Native woman signing (holding a sign at the side of the road asking for money). I regularly give people cash or food––bought a guy a sandwich at Subway this week––but I don't usually stop my bike to do it.
But for women with gray hair, I will go out of my way.

As I biked nearer, she started to walk away across a parking lot. I called out to her, "Hey, hey there!", and she turned and came back.
I took my bike helmet off to show her my gray hair as I gave her ten bucks--"We have the same hair!"

She smiled and reached out to touch my shoulder, "Thank you for calling me back."
Her hand was warm, and she held my shoulder for a moment.