Food for the Soul in Milaca

Joe and I went to an Amish Benefit Haystack Supper in Milaca this evening. Our friend Juli moved there last year and invited us to come along.

It was $10 a person, with the money going toward school and medical expenses for the local Amish community. These fundraisers happen the second Friday of every month from May through September—fish fries one month, haystack suppers the next.

Tonight’s haystack supper started with mashed potatoes, ground beef, and diced ham. From there you piled on whatever you wanted—lettuce, tomatoes, cauliflower, onions, carrots, cheese sauce, salad dressings, and crushed potato chips (about six different kinds!). Then came the dessert table loaded with homemade goodies. Drinks were simple—just water and orange juice.

Everything except the chips was made fresh with food grown in the community. They did have salt and pepper out, but honestly, the food tasted just right to me.

Dinner was held in a barn that had literally been finished yesterday. It was raining on our drive to Milaca, so I was especially glad to be inside. When we walked in, I looked up to see about a dozen Amish girls leaning over the loft railing, probably ages 12 to 18. A few had babies balanced on their hips. They were all smiles—when I waved, they giggled, waved back, and made me grin right along with them. Later Joe pointed out that the younger girls inside the barn were barefoot. Boys were busy clearing tables and carrying water pitchers. The women kept the food coming, and the men greeted guests and worked the orange juice station.

Along one wall were about five long tables covered with baked goods and candies for sale. We arrived at 5:30 (the dinner started at 4:00) and the tables were still full. By the time we left around 7:15, there were maybe twenty things left. I didn’t buy anything, though I was tempted by a little rhubarb pie. I knew it wouldn’t survive the forty-mile trip home—it looked just right for one hungry person (or two polite people).

It was so good to see Juli again and to meet her friend Anita. She’s a retired computer scientist, as is her husband, though he didn’t come along. She and Joe talked most of the evening, and when we were leaving she told me she really enjoyed visiting with him. She said he reminded her of her husband, except, “Joe knows a lot but in more depth than my husband.”

I had picked our seats because I spotted a woman across the table wearing a bright, fun hat somewhat like this: 

Image from Amazon

She told me she’d bought it at a garage sale the day before and had been showered with compliments ever since. She turned out to be delightful. I learned her 99-year-old mom still lives with her and is fairly independent. She’s been in a relationship for nine years and would like to get married, but if she does she’ll lose her medical benefits for specific health issues as her husband's income would disqualify her. So they “live in sin,” as she put it. I told her it was nobody’s business anyway. She’s been coming to these Amish dinners for three years now and loves them.

Next to her was another couple who were just as friendly, and I found myself chatting away, asking questions, and learning their stories.

Later another group sat down: a mom, her two teenagers, and the man she’s been dating. The mom, divorced for two years, lives north of St. Cloud with her kids—a 7th grade daughter and a 9th grade son. The boyfriend raises beef cattle in Milaca, and the plan is for all of them to live there together someday. The mom works as a handyperson—she even gave us her card.

The whole evening left me feeling lighter. For almost two hours, surrounded by people, food, and laughter, I forgot about the outside world and all of its anger and misplaced rage toward people like me—woke and liberal.

We went to an Amish fundraiser tonight. What I came home with wasn’t just food in my belly, but peace in my soul.

Choosing Humanity Over Contempt

Today the remembrances for 9/11 feel overshadowed by the murder of Charlie Kirk in Utah. Yesterday also brought news of a school shooting in Colorado. The shooter took his own life, and though several people were injured, thankfully the victims are expected to recover.

As for Kirk’s assassination, I’ve seen a lot of vitriol on Facebook from different political groups. I can only imagine what is happening on X. Much of what I’ve read has been full of anger and blame, especially toward liberals. I’ve even seen people writing that “karma’s a bitch” by non-supporters when it comes to Kirk being killed by a gun. The bottom line is that the death of Charlie Kirk by a lone gunman seems to be stirring up more anger than unity against violence. 

Sigh. I never agreed with almost all of Charlie Kirk’s beliefs, though his followers certainly did. Still, it wasn’t okay to kill him. I have empathy for his followers as they grieve. I feel for them because I am still raw from the politically motivated murder in June of Minnesota House Speaker Melissa Hortman, her husband, and their dog. The same suspect, Vance Boelter, also shot and injured State Senator John Hoffman and his wife in separate targeted attacks. He had a “hit list” of 45 state and federal Democrats.

I’ve been reading and listening to many different takes on the Kirk assassination in the last 18 hours—why it happened, who did it (motivation unknown as of this writing), what it means. But what I crave is not retribution, not escalation, but a way forward. How do we resolve the growing anger before it consumes us all?

I want to share an essay that speaks to that question.

Essay: A turning point (On Charlie Kirk, civic contempt, and the endangered idea at democracy's heart)
By Anand Giridharadas

1. Couples therapists will tell you it’s not fighting that worries them. It’s contempt that often proves fatal to a relationship.

2. What America is living through is not just disagreement, division, polarization; it is, above all, swelling civic contempt.

3. Disagreement, division, polarization are in the territory of “I think this way; you think that.” Civic contempt is different. It brings in attitudes of dismissal, fatalism; it imagines the adversary to be nothing more and nothing less than the views they hold in contrast to yours; it denies to the other the complexity we know in ourselves; it is built on a sense that people can’t change.

4. The assassination of Charlie Kirk, or before that of Melissa and Mark Hortman, or before that of Brian Thompson, or the attempts on the lives of Donald Trump and Paul Pelosi and Gretchen Whitmer — these acts are invariably committed by individuals with idiosyncratic stories and beliefs. But they are the magmic core of an entire culture losing its faith in the democratic method of changing things.

5. We must say, again and again, that this is not how you get the world you want. Never like this. It’s not right, and it doesn’t work. It achieves nothing. It simply pushes the country one step further down the road so that one day soon it will be someone you like instead of loathe meeting their own bullet in their own neck.

6. But we must show more than tell. When the society feels to so many like a giant conspiracy not to help them, not to see their pain and fix their problems, when that feeling festers day after hour, decade after year, something curdles in the blood. A sense of being cosmically uncared for spreads. A sense that no one is coming, that you are on your own. And very quickly on the heels of these feelings comes the feeling that, if you want it done, you better do it. Because no one hears and nothing works, there is a dangerous descent into cheering somebody, anybody, who does something.

7. The moment when the gun goes off is when we pay attention, but it always begins long before. And not in the extreme act itself but in the encircling culture that fosters it, that is causing these things to happen more and more. And it is a culture we all participate in. Few of us would ever contemplate barbarism like this. But most of us participate in the ways of looking, the ways of judging, the ways of writing off, the ways of civic contempt, that make barbarism more probable, that give it permission.

8. We dehumanize; we demonize; we essentialize; we confuse victims with perpetrators; we deny people the dignity of complexity. We imagine there can be no good reason to think differently. We cut people off instead of remembering that the person we have loved for decades is still in there somewhere, right behind their opinions. We confuse our own discomfort with danger, imagining that people who need help are a menace to us. We roll our eyes at each other’s fears, instead of taking those fears seriously, which is not the same as validating the claims inflaming it.

9. There are so many places and junctures to intervene to stop carnage like this: where guns are sold or not, where mental healthcare is given or not, where security is properly orchestrated or not, where leaders encourage violence or don’t. But you don’t need to know a thing about who did this one, or that one, or the other one, to know that no one is safe until we address the chronic illness in our body politic itself.

10. Democracy is, in the beginning and in the end, a belief that we can live together despite difference and choose the future together. It is a beautifully reckless idea, because it is hard enough for a family to decide what to have for dinner. But it works; in fact, it works better than all the other systems. It is built on the idea that the way to change the world around you is to try to change others’ minds. This would have surprised some of our ancestors, who found it easier to draw a sword. What is at stake now is whether we can defend the idea, and the lived belief, that you change things by changing people. We must tell this to people. More importantly, we must show it.

------------

As we mark another year since 9/11, a day that once brought us together in shock and mourning, we are now surrounded by fresh grief and violence—another school shooting, the brutal killing of Charlie Kirk, and the still-painful memory of Melissa Hortman’s murder. These events remind us how fragile our sense of safety and community has become. Yet they also remind us of the choice still before us: to deepen the contempt that fuels these acts, or to step back, breathe, and recommit to seeing one another as human beings first. If we can resist the spiral of anger, maybe we can still hold onto that “beautifully reckless idea” of democracy—one that insists we can live together, even in difference, and change the world not with bullets, but with words, minds, and hearts.

Garden Gold and Good Company

We enjoyed a visit with our friends Kacey and Liz yesterday mid-day. It was so nice catching up with them. Later that evening, while Joe was at work, I joined Kacey, Liz, Megan, Jeremy, and Oliver for dinner. Good times all around!

Between our visit and dinner, I made homemade salsa with roma tomatoes and serrano chilis from the garden. It simmered for two hours and turned out delicious. We’re freezing most of it for later, though it does keep in the fridge for up to a week.

The garden is winding down for the season. The zucchini, cucumbers, and string beans are finished, but the bell peppers, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, butternut squash, pumpkin, and kale are still going strong. While Oliver was here yesterday, Grandpa Joe took him out to the garden for their little ritual walk. They picked a bell pepper, and Oliver happily nibbled on it. We were surprised he could actually bite through, but with his four little teeth (two top, two bottom) he managed to crack it open. The pepper went home with him, decorated with tiny tooth marks and a big break where he’d bitten through to the inside.

Earlier this week, I made a heavenly zucchini soup with the last of our crop. I ate it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner three days in a row and felt sad when it was gone. I know I could buy zucchini at the store, but it’s just not the same. Next year, I’ve decided I’ll be making and freezing zucchini soup instead of baking a dozen or more zucchini breads. Sharing with neighbors may take a backseat too—except for Megan. Zucchini is my new gold.

As I close this post, the news is reporting that Charlie Kirk has been shot at a college in Utah. He is in critical condition, and the shooter is in custody. We need to come together and denounce violence, no matter who the target is. Two things can be true at once: I can despise Kirk’s rhetoric and still pray for his recovery.

Mimesis

This poem got all “up in my feels” today. I couldn’t help but think of people all over the world who have been forced to leave their homes and countries because someone else decided their land had a “better use.” It makes my heart heavy knowing so many lives are turned upside down by the greed of others.

The trouble with waiting for greedy folks to get their comeuppance is this: I don’t want to be in hell with them just so I can say, “See, told you so.” And meanwhile, waiting for karma doesn’t do a thing for the people who are already fleeing and suffering right now.

The same can be said for our current immigration “program.” The White House — led by the likes of Stephen Miller — seems to treat it as a tool to push out anyone he deems undesirable. Which, in his world, is basically anyone who isn’t a white male. That means every person of color becomes a target. Every person who doesn’t speak English becomes a target. And under it all, again, is greed.

They like to dress it up as reducing crime, but that claim falls apart pretty quickly when you look at the folks they’ve chosen to pardon.

I’d like to believe there are more of us who would step aside — even give up something like biking for a while — if it meant creating space and safety for refugees and immigrants. Because at the end of the day, I think there are far more people willing to open their hearts than close their doors. And maybe that’s where the real hope lies.

Satire Doesn’t Stand a Chance Against Reality

Have you ever found yourself laughing out loud at something that should feel deeply dismal? That was me yesterday. I watched a video where a woman lamented that in Florida she had to vaccinate her dogs for rabies—but children no longer had to be vaccinated. I really didn’t find it funny… but I was laughing anyway.

Satire gets me every time. I tend to think of satire as something that’s not true… but in a way, seems like it could be. Andy Borowitz, The Onion, Mad Magazine—they all make me laugh. But in today’s bizarre political world, it's often impossible to tell what's satire and what’s real. The upside is that it forces me to fact check what I read.

Remember the old adage, “If it seems unlikely, it most likely isn’t true?” Well, those days feel gone. Suppose someone said, “This regime just blew up a boat with 11 (or maybe 13—nobody knows for sure) people aboard in international waters, not even close to the U.S.” Normally, that’d be met with a resounding “NO WAY.” But now?… Yes way.

Until about a week ago (on September 2, 2025), Forty-Seven directed a U.S. military strike in international waters of the Caribbean, killing 11 individuals aboard a vessel from Venezuela—a boat authorities alleged belonged to the gang Tren de Aragua, labeled as a “narco-terrorist” organization (The Washington Post+1Reuters). It marks a dramatic departure from traditional counternarcotics methods, which typically involve Coast Guard interdiction and arrests—not missile strikes (ReutersThe Wall Street Journal).

Critics argue the operation might violate both U.S. and international law, as lethal force is generally permitted only in genuine armed conflict or self-defense—and there’s no clear proof this vessel posed such a threat (ReutersThe Guardian). Many defense experts and legal scholars see this as a troubling precedent—an extrajudicial killing disguised as anti-drug policy (The GuardianThe Washington Post).

I don’t support illegal drugs entering America. But surely hitting a boat in international waters with a missile—effectively executing its passengers—is not proper protocol. Usually the procedure would be to disable, board, inspect, arrest, and charge—not obliterate. Yet that’s exactly what happened.

With insanity apparently running amok inside the White House, maybe inappropriate laughter is the last refuge between me and, well, actual sanity. Meanwhile, I hear people on both political sides shrugging: “It’ll all come out in the wash.” They’re burying their heads, pretending it’s just “politics as usual.” But I don’t buy that.

This isn’t politics as usual.

I have no idea what it will take for all Americans to wake up and see that these actions are not just controversial—they may be illegal, immoral, unethical, and downright dangerous to national (and international)—economic and mental—wellbeing.

Satire was supposed to highlight the absurd—but right now, reality is performing satire better than anyone could write. 

Where are the people who once were furious over something as trivial as a fashion choice—a suit Obama wore that they insisted was “out of season”? Outrage has certainly... changed.

Oliver, AI, and Looking Ahead

Yesterday I didn’t feel up to writing. Inundated with too much “forty-seven news,” I didn’t even want to touch a computer—whether to write, watch a show, or scroll Facebook. Nothing. So I didn’t. And honestly, I felt better for it.

Today was a whole different story. I spent the day hanging out with Oliver, and we even shared an hour-long nap together. He’s such a clever little guy. While he isn’t crawling yet (he’s only 7 ½ months old), he’s getting closer every day. He scootchies across the floor pretty fast and spends a little time up on his knees. This afternoon he discovered Sylvie’s crate and made a beeline for it. For five solid minutes he opened and closed the door (don’t worry—Sylvie wasn’t inside). I took a video and sent it to Joe, who replied exactly as I expected: “Cute. I can’t wait to show him machining.”

There will always be a need for machinists. Not everything can be done by Artificial Intelligence (AI). We need to make sure our children and grandchildren grow up with skills that matter. Interestingly, I read an article in The Atlantic today about how AI is not delivering the profits companies expected. Both those developing AI and those using it are struggling. One big selling point has been that AI coding would be cost-effective—but so far, not true. The code it generates is only about 50% accurate, which means senior programmers are spending extra time checking it. One compared the process to “reviewing the work of a junior coder.”

Even more concerning is how AI research has inflated stock prices for the companies behind it. If those expectations don’t pan out, the market crash could be huge. Buyer beware.

But back to how clever my grandson is … Oliver and I played a lot today. Grandma built towers with plastic blocks, and Oliver sent them tumbling down. What struck me was how gently he knocked them over. He didn’t laugh when they fell—he studied them, almost like he was learning how the blocks moved.

What does excite him, though, is vacuuming. When the iRobot is busy cleaning the floor, or Megan is vacuuming with the upright, Oliver kicks his legs, waves his arms, and beams the biggest smile.

Nap time with him is usually a small battle of wills. He cries a bit before laying his little head on my chest and drifting off. Around 4:00 today we went upstairs to his room, where the blackout curtains make it nice and dark. After a few small cries, he cuddled up and went to sleep. The rocking chair was so comfortable that I drifted off, too. We both got almost an hour of rest. When he woke up, he lifted his head, looked right at me, and gave the sweetest smile. I treasure these little moments more than words can say.

This week I’m looking forward to a visit from our friends Kacey and Liz. Megan will pick them up at the airport tomorrow, and they’ll stop by on Tuesday to see Joe and me before Joe heads to work. And on Friday, Joe and I are planning to attend an Amish Benefit Haystack Supper. The proceeds go toward medical and school expenses for the local Amish community, which makes it even more meaningful.

What are you looking forward to this week?

NIght Off

 Taking tonight off! Hope you have a good Sunday!

Fair Reflections

My friend in Connecticut went to a fair in the next town over from her this past week. She said it was a wonderful experience and even mentioned that she plans to write her reflections down. I hope she shares them with me.

That got me thinking—what a neat travel project it would be to go around the country visiting state fairs and writing about the differences. I’ve only been to the California State Fair years ago and to the Minnesota State Fair once. I can’t say I’m much of a fairgoer. I usually enjoy myself once I’m there—it’s just the idea of the crowds that puts me off. The good news is that outdoor crowds feel much easier to handle than indoor ones.

Curious, I wondered if anyone else had already written about this idea. I came across a piece called Why the State Fair is One of America’s Most Iconic Traditions (America Rewind). Even if you’re not a fair lover, the article is worth a glance—it has a reference list that really highlights the cultural importance of state fairs in America.

References

• National Association of State Fairs – History and Evolution of State Fairs

• Smithsonian Magazine – The Cultural Impact of State Fairs in America

• Library of Congress – Agricultural Exhibitions and Their Influence on Society

• American Heritage Journal – The Role of State Fairs in American Tradition

• Historical Society of the Midwest – A Look at State Fairs Through the Decades

According to my reading, 48 states and Washington D.C. host a state fair. Connecticut and Rhode Island don’t, but both celebrate with a variety of regional fairs and festivals throughout the year.

Although we didn’t make it to the Minnesota State Fair this year, I’ve been entertained by videos of fair food adventures. One man makes a whole series about finding stands without long lines, and sometimes the hidden gems turn out to be delicious. If my food budget were unlimited, I know I’d have a heyday trying everything.

So now I’ll turn it over to you—what are your favorite fair memories? Whether from a small local fair or one of the big state ones, I’d love to hear the stories that stand out to you.

A Voice That Gives Me Hope

Robert Reich

After delightfully starting my morning with a video chat with my friend in Connecticut and her sister, I spent the rest of the day reading Terry Pratchett and watching YouTube videos. My favorite video was an interview with Robert Reich about his book Coming Up Short (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e_Jz_nxtZlI).

I subscribe to Reich on Substack and am a big fan. For those who may not know who he is, here’s a short description ChatGPT wrote for me:
“Robert Reich is an American economist, professor, author, and political commentator who has been a leading voice on economic inequality and public policy for decades. He served as Secretary of Labor under President Bill Clinton from 1993 to 1997, where he focused on workforce training, raising the minimum wage, and improving workplace safety. Reich has written numerous books on the economy, politics, and social issues, often emphasizing the dangers of concentrated wealth and power. He is also a professor at the University of California, Berkeley, where he teaches public policy, and he frequently shares his views through essays, documentaries, and social media. Known for his clear explanations of complex economic issues, Reich has become one of the most recognizable advocates for progressive economic reform in the United States.”

I started following Reich because of his excellent short videos that explain economics in ways that actually make sense. He argues that both Democratic and Republican presidents alike have catered to Wall Street, and in doing so, weakened the middle class. As wealth moved to the top, so did power. This left many Americans feeling like they had no future, paving the way for the Tea Party, and later MAGA. People across the political spectrum were craving someone authentic to come shake things up. Reich believes that if Bernie Sanders had run against forty-seven instead of Hillary Clinton in 2016, Sanders would have won.

In other words, Clinton’s loss wasn’t because she was a woman, but because she was viewed as part of the status quo.

Sadly, forty-seven’s current economic choices are once again putting more money and power into the hands of the very wealthy—while leaving the middle class behind.

Reich, who is the same age as forty-seven (as well as Bill Clinton, Dolly Parton, and Cher—all born in 1946), somehow still gives me hope for the future.

Maybe it’s just his mix of wisdom and persistence that makes me feel encouraged. If he can keep fighting for fairness at nearly 80, maybe the rest of us can keep believing things can change too.

Epstein Survivors Speak Out

Attorney Bradley Edwards speaks during a press conference to discuss the Epstein Files

 Transparency bill, directing the release of the remaining files related to the investigations

 into Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell, on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C., U.S., 

September 3, 2025. REUTERS/Jonathan Ernst

Listening to the Epstein survivors speak today is heartbreaking. What an American tragedy that justice has not been done.

I admire the women who have come forward to tell their stories of rape and abuse by Epstein and his so-called “friends.” They were further victimized in 2008 when Epstein was given a plea deal for sex trafficking underage girls. He was placed on a work release program in Florida — a system that allowed him to continue his depraved lifestyle. Then, in July 2019, New York filed charges of trafficking against Epstein. His alleged suicide in August was a coward’s way out — a final escape to never face the survivors or be held accountable for his actions.

I don’t know what creates a monster like Epstein (or any of the men sharing his depravity), but I do know that he and those who protected him are evil.

I think of Ellie Nesler walking into a courtroom and shooting Mark Driver five times, killing him instantly. At the time — 1993 — Megan was just one year old. I was in a phase where I couldn’t read about harm to children without bursting into tears and crying for hours. I don’t believe in vigilantism or the death penalty. But I do understand why Ellie Nesler made that decision — Driver had previous molestation convictions. Still, two wrongs don’t make a right.

Listening to Marjorie Taylor Greene today isn’t my favorite activity, but I respect that she is standing behind the bill to release all of Epstein’s files. Her speech reflected the fact that the Epstein case and the issue of molestation are not partisan issues. Two other Republican women, Lauren Boebert and Nancy Mace, have joined MTG in defying the White House and supporting the release of these files.

You can read about and listen to the survivors from several sources. One is the BBC: https://www.bbc.com/news/live/cpwywe5ee84t

The good news is that the Epstein survivors plan to compile a list of his known associates. As one survivor said, “We gave the U.S. government twenty years to do something. We are waiting no longer.” Allegedly, MTG has offered to read the list into Congress if asked.

Congress needs just two more Republicans to sign the discharge petition to release all Epstein files (with only survivor names redacted). The bill was introduced by Thomas Massie (R-Kentucky) and Ro Khanna (D-California). All 130 Democrats have signed it. Khanna has said the bill will remain on the floor until they get the final two signatures. Meanwhile, 47 is calling the Epstein files a “Democrat hoax.” Remember, that was the same person who promised his MAGA followers he would release the files when elected.

I hope justice will finally catch up with Epstein and those involved. These survivors deserve the truth, and our collective voice can help ensure that the system finally acts. We must stand against the evil and protect the innocent.

Essay by Anand Giridharadas: S'mores and Raids

I found this essay by Anand Giridharadas hauntingly real. It is a juxtoposition of a normal summer and the changes we heard about in our government. 

You can read (essays) and see (podcasts) Giridharadas' work on Substack.

Forwarded this email? Subscribe here for more ESSAY: S'mores and raids Summer under fascism Anand Giridharadas Sep 2   READ IN APP   The magnolias are coming in nicely. Did you hear about the National Guard? I can never find the pump for the inner tube. Did you hear they’re reining the the anti-corruption prosecutors? You can have two scoops, but promise you’ll eat dinner. Did you hear a teacher had to take down a sign saying, “Everyone is welcome here”? I can’t believe you grew those tomatoes. Did you hear they’re purging all these federal workers? And those tomatoes with the peaches — ridiculous! Did you hear Harvard is now handing over employees’ immigration records? Any good swimming holes around here? Did you hear they’re pushing out the head of Voice of America? Two carousel tickets, please. Did you hear they’re investigating Letitia James? Point your feet downstream so you don’t hit a rock headfirst. Did you hear they’re investigating Joe Biden? It’s three points if the bean bag falls into the holeDid you hear about the white South African refugees who just arrived? Just throw it right on the grill. Did you hear they’re going after public media? Don’t forget the strap underneath so the life jacket doesn’t slide up. Did you hear they’re threatening states that tried to expand access to voting? If it’s still light out, shall we go for a stroll after dinner? Did you hear they’re undoing all the incentives for switching to wind and solar? Can we stay up late and watch a movie? Did you hear the White House wants to ban “woke AI”? I’ll have the fried clam bellies. Did you hear he’s talking about the federal government taking over city policing? I’m telling you, it’s the song of the summer.. Did you hear about the ICE raids everywhere? Don’t forget sunscreen, sweetie. Did you hear the Supreme Court said judges can’t block unconstitutional laws nationwide anymore? Stay hydrated. Did you hear about the white South African refugees who just arrived? Just throw it right on the grill. Did you hear they’re going after public media? Don’t forget the strap underneath so the life jacket doesn’t slide up. Did you hear they’re threatening states that tried to expand access to voting? If it’s still light out, shall we go for a stroll after dinner? Did you hear they’re undoing all the incentives for switching to wind and solar? Can we stay up late and watch a movie? Did you hear the White House wants to ban “woke AI”? I’ll have the fried clam bellies. Did you hear he’s talking about the federal government taking over city policing? I’m telling you, it’s the song of the summer. Did you hear the tariffs are actually going to happen? I’ll meet you at the floating dock in half an hour. Did you hear about the loyalty tests? There is nothing like Italy in the summertime. Did you hear about the new travel ban? It’s basically a slushy. Did you hear he declared a crime emergency in D.C.? Can I borrow a bathing suit? Did you hear he’s trying to end mail-in voting? It’s more work to squeeze the lime juice, but it’s totally worth it. Did you hear he wants all federal buildings to follow a certain architectural style now? Do we have the stuff for s’mores? Did you hear they’re shutting down the Corporation for Public Broadcasting? I think let’s take it outside and make a picnic of it. Did you hear they’re cutting childcare on campuses? I can’t believe summer’s over.

 

Labor Day at Home

                                                                     Photo from the DOL website

Labor Day always feels like the last of summer. It’s a day to slow down, spend time with family, and maybe squeeze in one more cookout or day with the kids before fall really takes over. At the same time, it’s good to remember that the holiday was created to honor the hard work of ordinary people—the kind of work that keeps our lives running day to day. It’s both a break and a reminder of the value of work itself.

Labor Day began in the late 1800s when workers across the country wanted better pay, safer conditions, and shorter hours. The very first Labor Day parade took place in New York City in 1882, when thousands of workers marched together to make their voices heard. A dozen years later, in 1894, Congress made it a national holiday. Ever since, the first Monday in September has been a time to honor the people whose hard work builds and sustains our communities.

I chose to spend my Labor Day organizing paperwork. Yesterday my new two-drawer filing cabinet arrived, and it felt wrong to have it sitting empty while another drawer was stuffed to the gills with a mishmash of papers. I woke up this morning determined to right that wrong.

I took the time to sort and create files for all the folders the previous owners had left behind. More than once I’ve needed a manual and spent 20–30 minutes digging around for it. Now everything has its own folder and a proper place.

Meanwhile, Joe spent most of the day outside weeding. He says weeding isn’t labor for him—it’s something he enjoys, with his hands in the dirt and the yard taking shape.

It may not have been a grand holiday, but it was a good day—full of the kind of ordinary work that makes life run smoother and our home feel more settled.

If you want to read more about the history of labor day: https://www.dol.gov/general/laborday/history

A Day of Wonder

Oliver and I shared wonder today—in the woods, on the deck, and in the pages of this book.

Oliver and I spent the whole day together while Megan worked on projects. It was a good day from start to finish, with two fairly short naps—23 minutes and 30 minutes. Well, Oliver napped while I just closed my eyes and rested. I always worry I’ll drop him if I drift off, but even a few minutes of closing my eyes feels good.

Much of our time was spent on the floor, playing. Later, we went outside for a little “forest bathing.” We saw a bald eagle, a rabbit, and of course enjoyed the trees and clouds. I even sat him in his own patio chair, which he thought was very cool. Using the arms of the chair, he pulled himself up to his knees, with Grandma hovering close by.

At one point, I set him on the deck where he discovered a twig. Naturally, it went straight toward his mouth. I took it away gently, telling him, “Not for the mouth.” He studied it for a while and then tried again. When I reminded him, his little face puckered up and he cried. Each time he tested me with that twig, I repeated the rule. Finally, he gave it up, but not without crying like a banshee first.

Oliver is seven and a half months old, and it amazes me how fascinated he is by every object he touches. Together we explored the siding of the house, the drain spout, and he discovered that tapping on them makes a fun sound. Later, he was very curious about the parts for Megan’s blender that were in a box on the dining room table. A cup with holes in the bottom, a wide-mouthed funnel, and a plastic stirrer all caught his attention.

We also read an incredible book, Maybe: A Story About the Endless Possibility in All of Us by Kobi Yamada. The words remind us: You are the only you there ever has been or ever will be. You are unique in all the universe… The message is beautiful, but so are the illustrations.

A day of play with Oliver, paired with the gift of this book, filled me with joy.