I don’t have really many screenshots, mock-ups, etc. at all of what this website has looked like through the years. I do have a 9-year-old desktop computer that probably still contains those things; perhaps I will compile them sometime. Anyhow, this lack of documentation is somewhat ironic, because I run tumbledry to write about my life. Apparently, writing about myself is enough navel gazing for one place; adding another layer by contemplating the tool I’ve written for contemplation would be quite narcissistic, wouldn’t it? All that said, here’s a screenshot of how tumbledry looked not too long ago:
I hate it less than I thought I would. In all honesty, I’m simply posting this to test the JavaScript I wrote that lets me add images to posts without leaving the posting page. Seems to be working!
I haven’t learned a lot, but I think I’ve learned this: the things that preoccupy us, worry us, stress us, aren’t the things on which we should be wasting energy.
I recently found out that the famous Finnish architect Eliel Saarinen designed the sanctuary for Christ Church Lutheran, right here in my backyard of Minneapolis. Turns out Saarinen’s son, the world-famous Eero Saarinen (of St. Louis Gateway Arch fame, designed a lovely addition to the original building. Here’s a picture, by the local Pete Sieger:
Now, I’m speaking as a huge fan of the Gothic architecture of Cathedrals in Europe, but I still like this style. Somehow (and I don’t have the architectural terms to express how), the Saarinen’s take these materials, large spaces, unadorned planes of space, and make them warm, even transcendent.
I’m looking forward to touring this space this January.
“My whole life, I had been doing everything everybody
told me. I went to the right school. I got really good
grades. I got all the internships. Then, I couldn’t do
anything.”
Mykala and I’ve been thinking a lot about raising healthy children. After those discussions, I can certainly say I believe in the long term value of teaching children about hard work, but I can’t yet figure out how best to motivate children to do it based on an internal locus. The quote above speaks to someone subjected to external motives — they’re effective, but also artificial and unreliable.
Here’s a problem I have: I fear disagreement. Just in the past month, I finally realized how desperately I try to center all my conversations around agreement. Think back to any conversation I’ve had with you — I was subconsciously aiming at agreement. Then, there are times when I consciously aim at agreement: I’ll make a semi-strong statement, and the person with whom I’m speaking will disagree. Inevitably, I’ll do a series of linguistic backflips and contortions to align our just-stated viewpoints.
I understand you’ve got to disagree, it’s the only way to resolve conflicts. I’m just not good at it.
Had a little pre-Thanksgiving breakfast bite here on the couch, watching the Macy’s Day Parade on TV. Our picture window is just right of the TV, and I can see far more joggers than usual passing by, presumably burning some calories in preparation for their feasts later today. It’s fun to live in the city, feeling the heartbeat of a vibrant metropolis all around, your neighbors going about their lives. A few days back, I was biking back home in the dark along the East River Road. On the hill up to a bridge over I-94, I could see the river, Minneapolis, and the rush hour cars slowly winding along the freeway, all stretched out in front of me. I felt like I was really part of it all, and the thrill of it was very surprising. I got what I really like about it all. I bet that’s what people in New York City feel — when they take a step back from the crowded streets and subways, from the constant noise of traffic, it’s a thrill to be right in the midst of all the hustle and bustle.
Mykala and I were thinking about doing a Zumba “Turkey Burn” (90 minutes of me trying to figure out the choreography while Mykala rocks out next to me) aerobic-type class this morning, but her achilles tendon is acting up. There’s no sense in having a ruptured achilles Thanksgiving — they’ll be plenty of time for Zumba in the weeks ahead.
Our first snow of the season began before noon today. Though the accumulation isn’t expected to stick around, such facts are of little help when you’ve somewhere to be. So, just like I did last season, I pumped up my Nokian Hakkapeliitta W240 tungsten carbide-studded snow tires and began my commute to the gym.
Snow has gotten colder since last year. Either that, or it was just unusually windy today. Anyhow, the tires were (as usual) just great and I found more things rusting to the point of falling apart on my winter bike. Just one more season of this, and then I’ll have a car. In terms of commuting, next winter will likely be quite different.
Last season, our landlord boarded a very nice man from Egypt named Ahmad. He came here for a year to teach Arabic at Pratt Elementary in our neighborhood. At the end of his tenure here, shortly before he left to return to Egypt, he sent us an email saying if we’re ever in Cairo, to let him know, and he could show us around. Both Mykala and I were pleasantly surprised by such hospitality — I wonder if the cold weather of the north drives us all inside and reduces our tendency to open our homes to those we don’t know well. Such thoughts inspired me to get a picture of the next big snow and email it to Ahmad. He wasn’t a huge fan of the freezing weather and constant snow (and he was here for a particularly brutal winter). In fact, his kids back in Egypt didn’t believe him about snow until he sent them a video. Perhaps he’ll be thankful to see the cold weather from afar while he enjoys the mild Cairo winter.
