Yesterday, in Midway
Jun. 2nd, 2020 11:54 amMidway is quietly recovering, from what I can tell.
We are out in the streets every day with brooms and paint cans and, in Mason's case, bags of groceries. Yesterday, he spent the first couple of hours packing up food and the last couple helping people load up their cars. He was so cute when he came home, because he said to us, "You know what I learned today? Diapers come in sizes!" Shawn and I were like, "You're ahead of us. We only learned that sixteen years ago!" Because, seriously, both Shawn and I did stints as baby-sitters as kids, but there's so much you don't know until you have an infant in your house. I'm so glad that Mason is learning all this sort of stuff, especially as a young man.
I walked over to to my friend Theo's yesterday because they had painted me a protest sign at my request for me to put in my window. There was ANOTHER charitable organization setting up a food give away at University and Fairview. One of the women handing out stuff gave me a water bottle. She was a nice mom-type and when I said I wasn't in need, said, that I needed to hydrate. "It's hot, don't'ca know."
They seem to be springing up everywhere, because, earlier, as I was coming back from picking up bagels, I saw yet another charity organization organizing a food/medical drive in the empty lot at Lexington and University. So, we are being inundated with help.
My coffee shop, Claddaugh, raised over two hundred dollars in tip jar money for Midway recovery, too. Their tip jar is going to a black artist organization today, I believe.
Meanwhile, in my garden the world continues to turn as though Minneapolis is not burning for justice.
Image: thin-stalked blue irises in a boulevard garden (you can see the base of our street lamp.)
In the backyard, along the fence, the pink peony-transplanted years ago and so has gracefully agreed to be post-diva stage of transplanting--in bloom:
Image: peonies, still too heavy for their own beauty, flopped over in resplendent despondency.
Finally, specifically for![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rachelmanija , my orderly rows of radishes:
image: tiny sprouts in a row, nearly overwhelmed by tree detritus, including cottonwood fluff and maple tree 'helicopters.'
On that note, I shall leave you all with the hope of new life. There will be no peace without justice. We can rebuild.
We are out in the streets every day with brooms and paint cans and, in Mason's case, bags of groceries. Yesterday, he spent the first couple of hours packing up food and the last couple helping people load up their cars. He was so cute when he came home, because he said to us, "You know what I learned today? Diapers come in sizes!" Shawn and I were like, "You're ahead of us. We only learned that sixteen years ago!" Because, seriously, both Shawn and I did stints as baby-sitters as kids, but there's so much you don't know until you have an infant in your house. I'm so glad that Mason is learning all this sort of stuff, especially as a young man.
I walked over to to my friend Theo's yesterday because they had painted me a protest sign at my request for me to put in my window. There was ANOTHER charitable organization setting up a food give away at University and Fairview. One of the women handing out stuff gave me a water bottle. She was a nice mom-type and when I said I wasn't in need, said, that I needed to hydrate. "It's hot, don't'ca know."
They seem to be springing up everywhere, because, earlier, as I was coming back from picking up bagels, I saw yet another charity organization organizing a food/medical drive in the empty lot at Lexington and University. So, we are being inundated with help.
My coffee shop, Claddaugh, raised over two hundred dollars in tip jar money for Midway recovery, too. Their tip jar is going to a black artist organization today, I believe.
Meanwhile, in my garden the world continues to turn as though Minneapolis is not burning for justice.
Image: thin-stalked blue irises in a boulevard garden (you can see the base of our street lamp.)
In the backyard, along the fence, the pink peony-transplanted years ago and so has gracefully agreed to be post-diva stage of transplanting--in bloom:
Image: peonies, still too heavy for their own beauty, flopped over in resplendent despondency.
Finally, specifically for
rachelmanija , my orderly rows of radishes:image: tiny sprouts in a row, nearly overwhelmed by tree detritus, including cottonwood fluff and maple tree 'helicopters.'
On that note, I shall leave you all with the hope of new life. There will be no peace without justice. We can rebuild.