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Occupied

So much happening here and it changes from hour to hour and day to day. Minneapolis and Minnesota are all over the headlines and opening my email to the journalists’ newsletters I subscribe to or perusing the reporting of pretty much any news site is disconcerting. I’m reading echoes. Foreign news agencies have sent their war correspondents. There was a Danish film crew at my weekly neighborhood protest.

We Minnesotans tend to be a modest sort of people. When food is on offer, there will always be one last serving that no one eats because it would not be polite in case someone else might want or need it more. We are also known for apologizing to inanimate objects when we bump into them. I have actually apologized to a table, Ope! Sorry!

We have separation issues. It takes half an hour or longer to say goodbye. First you suggest that you will be leaving in a few minutes. Ten or fifteen minutes later, you actually make a move for the door. Depending on the season, it will take another 10-15 minutes to get ready to go out the door. Then you walk out onto the porch and the host follows and you spend another 10 minutes or so talking. Then you walk to your car or down to the sidewalk and the host follows you and you spend another 10 minutes or so before you finally, actually depart.

If you are ever talking with someone from Minnesota and they respond with, “that’s interesting,” it means they 100% disagree with you and think what you just said is incredibly ignorant or ridiculous. But they don’t want to argue with you about it because arguing is not very nice, especially if you are a guest in someone’s home or you are eating out with them and your dinner was just served and you have to get through the entire meal before you can spend 30 minutes saying goodbye.

We don’t like being in the spotlight. But more than that, we don’t like being told what to do and we don’t like anyone coming into our city and messing things up and hauling away the neighbor who has taken care of our pets while we were away and snow blowed our sidewalk just because, or the cook at our favorite little eat spot who always puts a special something into what we are getting because we helped dig them out of the snow or fished next to them for hours at the nearby lake or bought 5 candy bars we didn’t want from their kid who was selling them to raise money for a school field trip.

We don’t want to be in the news. We don’t want to be an example of peaceful resistance. And while we are greatly flattered and touched by the editors of The Nation nominating Minneapolis for a Nobel Peace Prize, we don’t think we deserve something like that because what we are doing here is just taking care of each other like we always do.

The Occupation

Contrary to Tom Homan and President Trump saying they would withdraw Federal agents, they have not. Today Homan promised to withdraw 700 agents immediately from the state. Even if 700 agents leave, there are still 2,300 remaining. They will continue to occupy my city and violate our constitutional rights with impunity. What you see and hear in the news is only the tip of the proverbial ICEberg.

My neighborhood is a backdoor entry for ICE and DHS agents wishing to avoid the protest crowds outside the Whipple building where their operations are based. They leave Federal property and drive, often recklessly, into my neighborhood looking for folks to detain, staking out houses, circling schools, threatening observers, as well as passing through to other parts of the city.

Because we are first to see the vehicles heading out on the road, observer patrols are active, reporting vehicles to citizen dispatch teams who then spread the word to other neighborhoods. Agents are aware they are being watched. They keep changing tactics to try and blend in or avoid being tracked. They change the license plates on their vehicles, use commercial and limo plates, use tape to change the numbers and letters on the plates, or drive with no plates at all. They are also putting sports team bumper stickers on their cars, stuffies on their dashboards, and increasingly driving sedans and minivans instead of SUVs. Sometimes they even drive trucks with company logos on them, pretending to be plumbers or electricians or delivery drivers.

They are using surveillance tech to hack and track phones. And have started using drones.

There are protests here every single day. I have attended so many community meetings and trainings with acronyms for all the things that I can’t keep it all straight.

This is where I live now. My once bustling city with its thriving small businesses and restaurants is now occupied by people with guns, tear gas, flash grenades, and giant canisters of pepper spray. Businesses are closing, students are staying home from school, people are afraid to leave their homes. Wired has an excellent article about how ICE has affected normal life here. Lit Hub has also been publishing a series of Letters from Minnesota that are very good.

The invaders have murdered two people. They point their guns at bystanders and threaten whoever they want to. They drive by folks peacefully protesting and spray them in the face with pepper spray. They push people to the ground and then accuse them of obstruction. They block in people legally following them in their cars on the street and then detain them for impeding law enforcement. They lie about everything. The lies are so egregious, the state has a webpage to correct all of the misinformation.

Nothing here is normal anymore, though there are plenty of people who behave as though it is; plenty of people who have no problem with what ICE is doing. But there are more of us who are out on the streets, more of us who are involved in mutual aid, more of us who are resisting any way we can.

And while things are grim here, there are plenty of moments of fun, absurdity, and beauty. There was a protest at the Whipple building where everyone wore costumes. We regularly have singing protests. The Saturday night following the murder of Alex Pretti there were candlelight vigils and walks throughout the city. My neighborhood and two others walked to a central meeting point and then went to together to a bridge over the nearby freeway. There were well over a hundred people there.

And this is what happened on Lake Nokomis, a few blocks from my house:

The letters are 100 feet in size, made from snow, and lit with candles. It is visible to the planes flying in and out of the nearby airport.

And then there is Smitten Kitten, a local feminist sex shop that has become a hub of mutual aid activities. They showed up at a protest with a big box of dildos to hand out to people. I laughed myself silly at their telling of the story and the photos of people with dildos affixed to their helmets.

There was a drum protest Monday as I was biking home from work. It was head bobbing, toe tapping fun with the sound amplified because of the tall buildings downtown.

There is joy in resistance, solidarity, and mutual aid. There is meaning in simply being a good neighbor.

Occupations, Other

Amidst everything I still have to go about the business of living. The arctic cold has finally lifted and it’s just regular winter cold.

My bathroom remodel is finally, finally done. We love the results. Eventually we will paint the walls, put up a different mirror, get a new shower curtain, and make a new window curtain. These things are a little lower on the priority list at the moment, but they will happen in the next few months.

Last weekend I did some winter sowing of prairie seeds that need a cold period in order to sprout. This was just before temperatures plunged to subzero F for a week, so they are definitely getting some cold. They are all in containers on my deck at the moment. Last year I had just written what I had sown in marker on the container or on a wooden popsicle stick stuck in the container. By spring the weather had worn it all away and I had to guess what was sprouting in each container. This year I wrote on the container and then put a piece of clear tape over it. We’ll see in a few months if that worked. Heh.

I made whole wheat sourdough bagels with zaatar spice topping. James has been making some delicious sandwiches with them. James has also been making tasty soups and stews from various pantry ingredients. We have been eating flax-spelt sourdough bread that I made with the soup.

We’re working on a jigsaw puzzle in the brief I-have-a-few-minutes moments when there is not time to sit down and do anything before you need to do something else or leave the house for work or a meeting.

I read James by Percival Everett—so good! Now I am reading Sea, Poison by Caren Beilin which I heard about on Between the Covers, and is delightfully strange. I am also reading Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake, a book I have been meaning to read for ages. Fungi are so freaking amazing y’all! And there is poetry by June Jordan and New and Selected Poems by Marie Howe.

James and I celebrated Imbolc. For us it is the promise of spring and the season of letting go of what no longer serves us. We have a ritual in which we write down on a piece of paper the non-physical thing we want to let go of and then we bundle up and stand in the snow in the garden and light our paper on fire. It’s quite satisfying. Indoors, we mark the occasion by opening a jar of jam. In the past it has been dandelion jelly, but last year we decided that the tedious picking of dandelions and then the even more tedious removal of the petals to make the jam was too much work for too little results. So I saved a jar of rose petal jam for this year.

Opening the jar to the soft smell of roses was delightful. And now for the next week or so we get to eat roses on our toast and pancakes. If that doesn’t invoke the promise of warmth and sunshine and green and flowers, then I don’t know what else could.

My apologies for not keeping up with blogs or replying to comments here. It has taken me five days just to write and post this. Most days it is all I can do to just keep up with the required dailiness and community goings on. I long for slow, dull days!

For your musical entertainment, here is Bruce Springsteen’s Minneapolis protest song. He says he wrote it in a night, and well, yeah. I appreciate the effort but it’s not going to win any awards, that’s for sure. He did make a surprise appearance in Minneapolis over the last weekend for a fundraising concert at First Avenue, which is really cool.

https://youtu.be/GDaPdpwA4Iw

For Good

Minneapolis seems to be in the spotlight again.

You’ve probably heard about ICE murdering Renee Nicole Good on Wednesday morning. I was at work and spent the remainder of the day distracted and trying to not cry. That’s pretty much how Thursday and Friday went too.

Saturday James and I went to a protest at a park a few blocks from where Good was killed. This is about a 15 minute bike ride from my house, but with 5,000 other people heading to the same location, it happily took a little longer. It was healing being there on a 20F /-6.6C day. People were angry but calm, and care permeated the whole area. The last week we’ve been having thawing during the day and re-freezing overnight and sidewalks are covered in lumpy, slippery ice. Volunteers were out sprinkling grit on the park sidewalks. People were helping each other navigate the ice. Younger folks were using the signs they had brought to slide down icy hills. There were families with children from infants to teenagers.

There were so many people James and I couldn’t even get close to the center of the event where the speakers were, or the street where people were gathering for the march to the sight of Good’s murder and where there is now a beautiful memorial. But that didn’t matter, we were there, adding our bodies and voices.

James’s bike commute to and from work takes him not far from the memorial. He generally bikes through George Floyd Square, Itself a memorial, and only a few blocks north. He plans on detouring by Good’s memorial this week to add note and a prayer.

We stayed a little over an hour before heading home, though the event continued well into the evening. When we had arrived ours were the only bikes at the bike rack. When we left I had to do some contortions to get close enough to the rack to unlock my bike because it was packed. At a table nearby were some women offering water to keep folks hydrated and free pizza. One would yell, “Grab a slice!” And then the other would yell, “Fuck ICE!” They had a great rhythm going and people were smiling and grateful and asking if they could make a donation and the women would refuse money and suggest they give it places delivering food and supplies to people who are afraid of leaving their homes.

Good’s murder Wednesday was not the only horror. ICE showed up and Roosevelt High School, just down the street from my house, when classes were getting out for the day. They detained two staff members, tackled teachers who were trying to keep the kids safe, and then they pepper sprayed and set off tear gas on the teachers and the kids.

I have not been trained on ICE watch, but I have neighbors who are out on patrol regularly. I have a sangha member who has been trained in de-escalation who has been going to hot spots, trying to talk people down, including ICE agents. I have a whistle I have begun wearing whenever I go out so I can sound an alert if I see ICE activity.

Ilhan Omar, my Congressional representative, showed up at the ICE detention facility by the airport Friday demanding to be allowed in to check on how people are being treated. It is her right and prerogative as a member of Congress to have access to ICE facilities. They would not allow her entrance.

One of my senators, Amy Klobuchar, announced Saturday that we now have more ICE agents in the Twin Cities than the combined number of police officers on the Minneapolis and St Paul police force.

We are under siege. We are resisting.

Don’t believe the lies coming from Kristi Noem, President Trump, and Vice President Vance. If you want to know what is really going on, following the local independent news sources: Minnesota Public Radio, Minnesota Reformer, and MinnPost. They are all paywall-free.

Renee Good was a 37-year-old mother and prize-winning poet. You can read her poem “On Learning to Dissect Fetal Pigs” at poets.org.

Poet Amanda Gorman wrote a beautiful tribute for Good:

For Renee Nicole Good
Killed by I.C.E. on January 7, 2026.

by Amanda Gorman

They say she is no more,
That there her absence roars,
Blood-blown like a rose.
Iced wheels flinched & froze.
Now, bare riot of candles,
Dark fury of flowers,
Pure howling of hymns.

If for us she arose,
Somewhere, in the pitched deep of our grief,
Crouches our power,
The howl where we begin,
Straining upon the edge of the crooked crater
Of the worst of what we’ve been.

Change is only possible,
& all the greater,
When the labour
& bitter anger of our neighbors
Is moved by the love
& better angels of our nature.

What they call death & void,
We know is breath & voice;
In the end, gorgeously,
Endures our enormity.

You could believe departed to be the dawn
When the blank night has so long stood.
But our bright-fled angels will never be fully gone,
When they forever are so fiercely Good.

It is hard to go on with regular life in the face of all of this, but it is also important to retain some touchstones of normalcy whenever possible for the purpose of mental health and well being. I read a great book called The Garden by Nick Newman. It’s a nebulous post-apocalyptic time with two late middle aged sisters, Evie and Lily, who have lived in the walled estate just the two of them since they were young. Then a boy makes it over the wall and their settled routines are overturned and their relationship cracks. We learn the truth of the sisters’ lives in carefully spooled out flashbacks and current day comments and actions. It is quiet and creepy and deliciously unsettling. The ending is a bit soft, but I forgive that given all that came before.

Also, my bathroom remodel is mostly done! There are a few finishing things still pending but it is done enough that we can use it. The contractor picked out the sink on the promise that it would be smaller than our old one, but it turned out to be larger. We said we didn’t like it, found one we liked better, and they have ordered it and will swap it out in the next week or two.

And now of course, we will need to repaint, get a new window and shower curtain, and a new mirror so it all matches and looks new and shiny. These things we can take our time with because I want to make sure we like them since I never want to do this again while I am living in this house.

Here is part of the old tub-shower. You can see the enamel of the tub was peeling off, and the side of the tub was knee-high. I look at that photo and wonder how we put up with it looking so terrible for so long!

And now we have this:

The photo doesn’t show the true color very well. The tile is a mottled light to medium gray with bits of white and dark gray in it. The grout is a light gray. The tile on the bathroom floor is the same as in the shower. It is lovely. And James is pleased with the folding chair and grab bars.

Books and a new bathroom are definite blessings amidst the horror outside my door. And my Buddhist sangha and Beloved Community Circle have been both a refuge and a source of support. I’ve never felt so much community belonging and support in my life. It fills my heart with love and gives me strength.

#AmandaGorman #AmyKlobuchar #bathroomRemodel #community #ICE #IhanOmar #poetry #protests #ReneeNicoleGood #TheGardenByNickNewman

Welcome 2026

After last weekend’s main drain backup it turned out the plumbing wasn’t finished with us yet. Thursday afternoon the shower in the basement bathroom we’ve been using for the past month while our main bathroom remodel takes its sweet time, decided to leak. And it wasn’t one of those slow drip, drip leaks. But we can fix leaky faucets!

It turned out the plumbing was original to our 1952-built house and there are no longer tools and parts to fix it. So we had to call a plumber. He had to replace the shower/tub fixtures, but in order to do that, he had to cut a door-sized hole in the wall of the adjacent bedroom to access the pipes. He then had to replace the steel pipes with copper ones. And now we have new basic shower/tub fixtures and a large hole in the wall. But no more leak!

James and I do not have the tools or know-how to do drywall, so eventually we will need to hire a handyperson to come and do it for us. Since this is a guest bedroom and it is winter and people do not come visit Minnesota in the winter, especially our southern California and New Mexico family members, we can wait until spring or summer to have the wall repaired.

Meanwhile, my main bathroom remodel is not yet done. It is getting close though and I expect it will be completed this week. The tile is done and looks oh so pretty. The grab bars and folding shower chair are mounted. Now we just need a shower door, shower fixtures, a toilet and sink. And of course, with all the new and shiny, I’m looking at the medicine cabinet and wrinkling my nose because it is showing its 25-year-old age. And of course, new paint on the walls is going to need to happen too. When we contracted for the project we both naively thought the rest of the bathroom would not need changing. At least these things we really can do ourselves.

We had vegan black-eyed peas and pumpkin quesadillas on New Year’s Day. They can also be made with sweet potato or another winter squash. Last year we used butternut. Such a tasty meal! I got the recipe a couple years ago from the Washington Post and sadly it is trapped behind a paywall. However, if it is a recipe you are interested in, let me know and I can email it to you, I just can’t post it online.

Eating black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day is supposed to bring good luck. It’s a tradition from the southern part of the United States. My mom is from Oklahoma and grew up having to eat them on New Year’s, but scoffed at the tradition, along with a lot of other southern cultural things, as an adult. Her mom, my Granny, always had to have them, however. Due to a stroke that left her paralyzed on the left side of her body, she lived the last ten years of her life in a nursing home. My mom always had to go to the grocery store and buy a can of black-eyed peas to take to her otherwise she would never hear the end of it. Since Granny couldn’t cook, I assume my mom opened the can and Granny just ate them. I was generally still in my pajamas after sleeping in on New Year’s Day, and was never present for the eating of the black-eyed peas. I just remember my mom grumbling about silly superstitions.

Because of this, I never ate any until I started growing them in the garden several years ago. We tried them out in hoppin’ John and a few other dishes, but not until I came across the quesadilla recipe did we settle on our own “traditional” way to eat them on New Year’s Day. Do I believe that they bring me good luck? No, especially since after we ate them the basement bathroom leak happened. Is it a fun way to honor traditions and ancestors and have a tasty meal in the process? Absolutely!

We ended up with some extra cooked black-eyed peas and James was trying to figure out what meal he might add them to. He’s going to be making split pea soup and thought he could add them to the soup. What did I think about that? I shrugged, seemed like it would be fine.

He continued kitchening in silence, and then suddenly asked, “Do you think it will kill the green peaness?”

“What?!” I exclaimed, and scowled a little.

If you are wondering about my response, say “kill the green peaness” out loud.

James looked at me a bit confused. Then I re-ran what he said in my head and saw the jar of green split peas on the counter. Then I started laughing. Then he realized what I thought he said and started laughing too. I laughed so hard I had tears streaming down my face. We are still laughing about it. And now, of course, kill the green peaness has become a thing.

There’s snow on the ground and will be for several months yet, but I ordered my garden seeds! I posted my list last week, and now you can all roll your eyes or giggle because yes, it changed. But I have a good reason!

I was planning on ordering from four different places and remembered Sand Hill Preservation Center in Iowa. They are an heirloom seed place I bought sweet potato slips from a few years ago. I did not get a good sweet potato harvest but that is no fault of theirs. Their product was good, my growing was not because I refused to put down black plastic around the plants to keep the soil at the really warm temperature they like. Surely a sunny spot and some straw will be just fine? Well, since the sweet potatoes weren’t much larger than ping pong balls, the answer was no.

But I recalled that they have lots of really interesting garden seeds I had never seen anywhere else. So I browsed their website to see if I might be able to consolidate my seed order. Why yes, yes I could.

I still had to order from three places, but Sand Hill prices are so good, I was able to shift around some of what I was ordering from the other two places and overall spend much less on seeds and shipping. Of course I had to throw in two additional seeds packets! I added caraway to the order so I will have a supply for sourdough pumpernickel bread making. And I added an interesting herb I had never heard of before called beetberry.

Beetberry, Bitum capitatum, is a member of the amaranth family. The leaves can be eaten raw as a salad green or cooked, and are highly nutritious. The tiny red berries that follow the interesting looking flowers are high in anti-oxidants and can be used to make jams or desserts. The plant also has anti-inflammatory medicinal properties. Even better, it is an annual native to most of North America.

Only two additions, but good ones you have to agree! One of the delightful things about Sand Hill other than their variety and great prices, is that they have no online ordering. I had to download an order form, fill it out, print it off, and send it through the mail with a check. This is likely one of the reasons why their prices are so good. I don’t mind at all that the whole process takes a bit longer because none of the seeds I am getting from them will need to be started indoors until March.

Seeds all done. Next I need to write out my planting calendar.

My two week’s vacation is drawing to a close and it is back to wage work tomorrow. In spite of the topsy-turvy bathroom remodel and plumbing problems, it has been a wonderful and relaxing break. I managed to read 84 books in 2025, more than I ever have before. If you are interested in poking around, check out my LibraryThing list. It says 90 but that’s because it also includes several books I chose to not finish. And there are charts and graphs too if that sort of thing floats your boat, though I’m not certain of their accuracy.

I had some fun on my vacation sorting books on my bookshelves. And I made progress on my attic project too. All the carpet is up. Now I’m filling in the seams on the plywood floor which will then get sanded and painted with primer and then painted with floor paint. Little by little!

I hope your 2026 is off to a good start. Please send good thoughts that I will not have any additional plumbing issues for a very, very long time!

#atticCarpetProject #bathroomRemodel #beetberry #blackEyedPeas #Granny #holeInTheWall #NewYear #plumbing #SandHillPreservationCenter #seedCatalogs #splitPeaSoup

Seedy

Hello Friends! I missed posting yesterday because I was busy scrubbing the basement bathroom after our main sewer drain backed up Saturday. We couldn’t run water down the drains or use the bathroom all day until the plumber finally made it out at 8:30 that night. James had to wet vac the basement utility room floor and then I also had to scrub the hallway floor and spot clean the main floor where the plumber left dirty boot prints. And then I got to catch up on the laundry.

To add to all the fun, we had a winter storm blow through. James took the bus to work because of the near-blizzard wind conditions. We ended up with 5.8 inches/14.7 cm of snow, which is on the low end of what was forecast. Late yesterday afternoon when it was still lightly snowing and not yet arctic windchills, I ventured out to shovel the walkways, the path to the chicken coop and around the recycling and trash bins because today is trash day and they will skip your house if your bins are not cleared of snow.

This morning I was out before sunup shoveling the additional bit of snow that fell overnight and the snowdrifts the wind had blown across the sidewalks. Cleared a fresh path to the chicken coop and around the bins. Because there was a lot less snow than Sunday afternoon, this took not much time at all.

Now I’m sitting in a suddenly quiet house. The tile guys are here this morning working on my bathroom and the tile saw died. Kaput. So they are off buying a new one and will be back shortly to make more noise.

Last week they got two of the three sides of the shower walls done. I thought a tiny bathroom meant the work would go faster, but it turns out small spaces take longer because they have more angles and require more cutting. But today, after they get their new saw, they should be able to finish the shower wall and the floor. I don’t know if they will be able to do the grout today or whether they have to let the “mud” the tile is set into dry first. Guess I will find out.

Garden planning! I have a lot of seeds saved from last year’s garden. We really like all the tomato varieties we’ve been growing, most of the beans, cayenne peppers, garden peas, butternuts, marigolds, tulsi, and greens, but I always like to try new plants, and there are some plants that I’ve not been able to save seed from because they are biennial and I haven’t motivated myself to dig up carrots and onions and overwinter them in my basement to plant out in spring so they can flower and set seed. I’ve also not found a radish I like enough to save seeds and grow on. Maybe this will be the year carrots and onions and radish all come together?

I’ve got my new garden seed orders sorted out, but haven’t placed the orders yet in case I decide to change my mind or add something. My plan is to order them Thursday, but I’m beginning to think that leaving it open that long might be a mistake because I am not likely to remove anything from the plan, but highly likely to add. And I really don’t need to add anything else. So I’m going to declare it here and y’all can hold me to it and shame me if another seed packet or two somehow sneaks in!

Herbs:

• Cilantro. I decided I don’t like the variety I’ve been growing the last few years, so trying a new one.
• Sweet basil. I’ve been growing Genovese basil but the leaves are so small. This one has bigger leaves.
• Greek Oregano. Mostly perennial but last year’s polar vortex arctic blast killed it. I could buy a plant at the plant sale in May, but we like oregano so with seeds I can grow several plants.
• Broadleaf sage. Allegedly perennial but I have yet to get one through a winter. Instead of buying a single plant I’m going to sprout several and plant them all around the garden to increase the likelihood of winter survival.
• Elka poppy. Poppy seeds! I guess not technically an herb, but I thought it would be fun to have pretty pink poppies for the pollinators and seeds for me to use baking sourdough delights.

Peppers:

• Jalapeño. For some reason, none of the seeds I had been saving sprouted last year and I need some fresh ones.
• Poblano. James really wants peppers for stuffing, so I’m going to try growing these.
• Orange lunchbox. A small, sweet snacking pepper, also a James desire since we’ve had zero luck growing bell peppers and the one time we got any, a squirrel ate them all. Of course.

Roots:

• Early scarlet horn carrot. A pretty standard carrot and supposed to keep well.
• Dragon carrot. Purple on the outside, orange on the inside. Did you know that all carrots used to be purple? We have orange carrots because Europeans decided they were more interesting or something.
• Dakota tears yellow storage onion. I’ve not grown this variety before. It’s supposed to be very strongly flavored, thus the tears.
• Southport red globe storage onion. New to me variety with a slightly shorter season than other red varieties I’ve tried.
• Sora red round radish. Big radish that is supposedly tolerant of summer heat so I can succession plant all season.
• Spanish black radish. A spicy radish black on the outside and white on the inside. To plant at the end of July for fall harvest. I’ve not grown this variety before.
• Macomber rutabaga. I had some free rutabaga seeds from the library last year and the plants grew big and strong but I didn’t plant the seeds deep enough so just got long spindly above ground “roots” I couldn’t eat. Lesson learned and worth trying again.

Other:

• Red Kalibos cabbage. My green cabbage has been pathetic so I’m trying red. If red doesn’t do well, then I’m giving up on cabbage growing.
• Whirlygig zinnia. Birds ate all the zinnia seeds last year before I could save any so I need a refresh. I’ve never had birds eat zinnia seeds before. I will need to figure out how to protect some of the flowers next summer for seeds to plant on.
• Long pie pumpkin. Turns out the pie pumpkin I planted last year was a hybrid variety so I couldn’t save seeds. This one gets picked before it is ripe and ripens in storage. I am hoping to pull a fast one on the squirrel pirates.
• Hidasta shield pole bean. A pretty white bean with brown markings. Grown by the Hidasta people in North Dakota and good for soup and baking. I love growing beans and since I’m not growing disappointing succotash beans again, I have space to try something new.

New! New! New!

• Mother Mary’s pie melon. I’ve not had much luck growing melon in the past but this heirloom is from a woman in Minnesota and is reportedly a sweet melon good for making pie and jam. I have to try it!
• Purple Vienna kohlrabi. I’ve not grown kohlrabi before and the broccoli I tried to grow last year only produced a few small heads that almost immediately bloomed. Disappointing. I thought Kohlrabi might make a good substitute. We’ll see.
• Mexican sour gherkin, also known as cucamelon and mouse melon. Neither a cucumber nor a melon, this vining plant produces small green and white fruit that look like tiny watermelons. They supposedly taste a little like pickles, can be eaten raw or pickled and you either love them or hate them. I’m banking on loving them.
• Green striped cushaw. Also sometimes called sweet potato pumpkin. A large, sweet long-keeping green striped winter squash good for pies, squash butter, pudding, and roasting. I’m longing for the squash butter and the pudding.

There they all are. The garden is really going to be packed come summer. But then I say that every year and somehow end up with large patches of feral arugula because I didn’t have anything planted in that particular spot. Perhaps this will be the year I actually do pack the garden.

I had originally planned to also try growing fava beans after I discovered a recipe for
fava bean hot chocolate. I see the look on your face, hang with me for a second. Creamy vegan hot chocolate is a challenge. We could use coconut cream but then it tastes like coconut. We’ve used medjool dates but then it gets really sweet. Fava bean puree makes it creamy while not tasting beany.

Of course I had to try it before committing to growing the beans. Sadly, my food co-op doesn’t sell fava beans, either dry or in a can. I thought to try the recipe substituting white beans instead because there are many vegan recipes that use white beans to make creamy sauces , soups, and dressings since white beans are mild and other flavors cover over the beans. We tried navy beans and it worked! I’ve been enjoying a cup of creamy hot chocolate now and then of an afternoon during my vacation time. Mmmmm.

But still, I thought I might try growing fava beans untilI I found out from the Fedco seed catalog, the only one that had fava seeds, that “In susceptible humans who have inherited a specific enzyme deficiency, within a few minutes of inhaling pollen or several hours after eating fava beans, a severe allergic reaction occurs. Most individuals have this enzyme and are not affected.”

Say what? This might explain why my food co-op doesn’t sell fava beans. I have never eaten fava beans and have no idea whether I have said enzyme deficiency, but given all my seasonal allergies and my inability to eat raw cucumbers and raw onions, I decided to not push my luck. And since navy beans are a cheap and easy substitute, well sorry fava beans.

The tile guys are back. Sawing and listening to music. Currently it’s the Violent Femmes. I haven’t heard them in ages. Blast from the past!

We’ve somehow made it to the end of 2025. What a year. Enjoy safe and happy year-end celebrations! May 2026 be filled will joy, beauty, and peace, as well as the strength and resilience to meet whatever surprises and struggles arise.

#bathroomRemodel #favaBeans #plumbing #seeds #snow

Winter Solstice 2025

Oh Friends, it has been a busy couple of weeks, but now I am happily on vacation for the next two weeks. Aaaaahhhhhh.

The busy was from many things. At work it was wrapping up the semester and trying to make sure the professors I support had all the research materials they needed while the library is closed for two weeks. This while also supporting students studying and taking final exams.

Then home to more busy. James and I helped plan our sangha’s annual tea ceremony. We did not go last year due to bad weather, so we had zero context for what we were helping with. The person doing the bulk of the planning was first out of town and then otherwise engaged, and there was much to do in a week and a half. So many Signal messages and emails and time spend on Zoom working out the details. And of course, the day of the tea ceremony the weather was terrible—first rain, then ice, then light snow and howling wind blowing the snow around. It took me extra time to bike home from work. Then James and I ate a very fast dinner before bundling up and biking very carefully with our portion of supplies to the ceremony. I am grateful we don’t have to bike far.

James and I helped set up, which was already in progress since we were late. Our role in the ceremony itself was to serve the tea and treats to sangha attendees, which involved lots of formal bowing while carrying big trays of tea-filled cups, followed by big trays filled with plates of cookies, fruit, and nuts, which also required lots of formal bowing. In addition I ended up filling the role of tea offerer—placing a cup of tea and a cookie on the altar—because the person who was going to do it lives in the burbs and didn’t come due to the icy roads The altar as on the floor instead of the usual table, and surrounded by candles and flowers. I had to bow and kneel with the offering in my hands, then set it down on the altar. I am proud to say I didn’t spill anything on the altar or on any sangha members, though I did manage to kick two of the many tea light candles on the floor later in the ceremony, making a waxy mess on the floor and on my pants leg.

Still it all came together beautifully and all the attendees gave us gracious praise. Some even stayed late afterwards to help us clean up.

We were out again Friday night, biking in the dark and on sometimes icy roads, to a Beloved Community Circle gathering across the river in St. Paul. The gathering was wonderful, as they always are. Part of our evening was spent formally watering each other’s (metaphorical) flowers. It is so easy to speak from the heart to other people about how wonderful they are and what I admire about them, it is a challenge to accept the beautiful words they say to me. But giving and receiving is part of the practice, and spending the evening with increasingly dear friends was exactly what my heart needed even though we didn’t get home until after 10 and my body was very tired.

Because James had to work at the bookstore on Sunday, the actual day of Solstice, we celebrated on Saturday. Part of the menu was crusty sourdough dinner rolls, which I had enough foresight to make the weekend before and keep them in the freezer. One less thing to do! So after a busy two weeks at work, a week and a half of tea ceremony planning and performing, and a late (for me) night with friends, I spent almost the whole day Saturday cooking.

As you know, James is the cook in the house and he does all the cooking all year except for Winter Solstice. This tradition began over 30 years ago because James with his retail career, was never able to get the Solstice off—too close to Christmas. So I make a sometimes rather elaborate menu, and do all the cooking and have dinner ready when James gets home from work. All these years later, his schedule is much different, but we keep the tradition of me planning and cooking a special meal.

This year’s menu was holiday roast stuffed with roasted golden beet, carrot, and parsnip; wild rice “un-stuffing,” aloo bonda also know as mashed potato fritters (from Vegan Richa cookbook), spicy cranberry chutney, and crusty sourdough rolls. For dessert we had salted date caramel chocolate pie with whipped coconut cream on top. The pie did not set up like it was supposed to and didn’t hold form when removed from the pie plate, but it was delicious all the same. The whole meal was delicious. All the flavors went together beautifully.

Sunday we ate leftovers, and I was able to fully enjoy the meal since I wasn’t tired out from all the things. Tonight is leftovers again. Then the roast will be gone and everything else will get incorporated into other meals.

And now, rest. Though we are in the midst of having our bathroom remodeled. We are converting from a tub with shower to a shower stall that has grab bars. Some days James’s MS leaves him feeling unbalanced and nervous about stepping over the high side of a bathtub. We are also having the old, worn out vinyl floor tiled to match the shower, getting a new toilet that fits our tiny space, and a new sink that also fits the space better.

It was supposed to be done by now, but the city took a long time to issue permits, delaying the start of the work, and then after the new plumbing was done, it took the city inspector a week to come out and give the ok. At the end of last week they did the prep work for tiling. I think that bit is done, but I’m not completely certain since I don’t know what done looks like in this case. All I know is that half my living room is taped off with boxes of tile and other supplies piled up, and I have to walk downstairs every time I need to use the bathroom. The novelty and adventure of this whole project has quickly disappeared, and with Christmas this week, I’m not certain what the work schedule is going to be.

So what do I do for an hour and half this morning? Start back to work on my attic remodel project! I’m still ripping out the old, gross carpet, pulling carpet tape off the under-floor, and cleaning up and moving things around as I go. You may recall I am turning this into a fiber arts room for sewing, weaving, spinning, and knitting. However, it has years of accumulated junk and chaos, some of which I have already disposed of, some of which—like the bins that currently hold my fabric and yarn stash—are getting shuffled around as I work. I would pile them in my living room except I can’t because of all the bathroom remodel stuff.

But now, after this is posted, I plan on some tea and garden dreaming. It’s time to start figuring out what I’m going to grow next year. To get my garden inspiration going, as if I really needed it, I listened to the first Plant Circle Gathering while working in the attic. The Plant Circle is part of a new project by Robin Wall Kimmerer called Plant Baby Plant. It is intended to be the antithesis of drill baby drill. I love their tagline: Raise a garden and raise a ruckus. Yesterday was the first plant circle and when their website officially launched. Be sure to check it out and get inspired!

Something else to inspire you, a photo essay of the anti-ICE march that took place Saturday in Minneapolis. I wanted to go, but just couldn’t fit it in and cook too. Thankfully, thousands of other people were able to turn out.

Happy Solstice!

#atticCarpetProject #bathroomRemodel #BelovedCommunityCircle #ICE #PlantBabyPlant #sangha #teaCeremony #WinterSolstice