Dominick's

Eryn, my wife, and me having lunch at Dominick's a few weeks ago, adjacent to the Trestle Stop in sort of southeastern Eagan.  I took this photo for the architect on our team because it was such a dead day at the office and I wanted him to see lunch in Eagan when it's good, rather than when it's depressing in the corporate cafeteria.

I also highlight it because they're both having a cheesesteak sandwich.  Which is what I had.  Which is what everyone who goes to Dominick's should have, particularly if it's their first time there.  It's got to be one of my favorite meals in Eagan.  Fresh bread.  Lots of very hot fries.  I think I might prefer it to Chipotle, although it's definitely worse for me from a calorie profile.

Don't go Monday, they're closed!

Blackhawk Park

A few random photos from Blackhawk Park while I was out wandering around doing a bit of Ingress-ing.

The trail...


The frozen lake, which had a few ripped up spots in the ice.  I couldn't tell if they were from people or thawing.


And a very big tree that gave me an old man or Ent vibe...

Election Day 2014

I went to the trouble of getting a sample PDF of the local ballot this morning and looking up everyone I didn't recognize.  This was important because in at least one of the races, it appeared that the non-incumbent had a dead website, wasn't answering calls for interviews, and had a rather questionable past having left the profession ten years ago and only receiving 1% in a previous election (elsewhere).  It seemed like a good case of casting a vote even if I didn't particularly know the other guy to make sure someone else didn't get in on a whim.

I based some of my decisions on professional background, experience, and other volunteer/elected positions (I've got a bias toward experience and skill), and based my decision around Soil and Water on whether I was happy with the current job as I understood it.  I realize I'm supposed to be all, "Something has got to change!  This soil and water work is going in the wrong direction and I don't know what the right direction is, but anything has to be better! Out with the incumbent!"  But I know they've been testing my local ponds, engaging in ongoing monitoring, expanding the green areas, and I'm generally happy.  I might have changed my mind if I thought our S&W rep was getting kickbacks for trying to run that chunk of pavement through Lebanon Hills; but I don't think that's actually the case.

I saw these Masin signs, three deep, on one of the roads through our neighborhood.  Just in case anyone thinks Eagan is a red city.  My gut feel was more DFL than GOP, but perhaps I notice them more.  I guess I'll know after polls closing.

Ka-boom goes the bike

I went out for a ride in Eagan two days ago.  I was on the highline, a very hilly trail, and came across this sign.  We've had a lot of rain, I knew the routes along the cliffs at the Mississippi were closed, but I didn't expect to see a sign in Eagan, let alone on the highline.  But given how hilly it is, it's not all high, there are lows.  And it's named after the powerlines, not its general elevation.


I biked down the hill to take a look.  One of the ponds near Thomas Lake is overflowing.


I almost thought I'd dare the water to see how deep it got, after all it's not rushing water, and then I heard several people talk from the other side of the water.  They seemed a long, long way away.  And the trail still goes down a bit from here, so I suspect it gets pretty deep.


Back up the hill and around Eagan.  I was almost home, on the last little super-steep hill, when I had to turn down the hill because the two kids ahead of me stopped in the middle of the trail (and hill).  I gave the pedals one turn, clicked the gear which didn't even make a noise, and suddenly the chain is off and wrapping itself so tightly around something that I had a hard time dismounting on the hill.  I worked on it for a while, but then had to call my wife to come get me while I hauled the bike, front wheel only on the ground, to a known place to meet.  Here it is...hard to tell anything is wrong, but if it were a horse, it wouldn't be running any races.


Here's a close up - you can see where the chain slid inside the gears.  It's not coming out without dismantling the rings.  I thought about doing it myself, but there were some scrapes across the spokes, deeper than just a scratch, and I was worried about what it had done to the chain.  And the shifting, on inspection, was done for, and I'm not keen on fixing that.  So into the shop it went.  I get it back next week.  Probably just in time to take my car in for a repair (minor - I think a piece of metal is loose under it somewhere).


Here's my attempt to extricate the chain.


And the other hand.  Probably means it was overdue for a cleaning.

Daddy Daughter Sweetheart Dance

Despite being obnoxiously ill, I went to the Sweetheart Dance with Eryn.  Which reminded me that I was rather ill last year when I went.  But at least I get to share my annual illness with lots of kids, which makes it all worthwhile.

There was dancing.  If you're a 2-12 year old girl, dancing involves bouncing up and down.  Having been to a few college parties and watched MTV, I know that this works for 18-24 year old women as well, although for different reasons.  For us white, middle-aged dudes, it's much more complicated.  There was the shuffle step - back and forth, feet touching on each side.  There was the minor bounce - basically a bending of the knees.  There was the hands in the air, ala Ronald Miller in Can't Buy Me Love (oh yeah...Dr. Dreamy had a past and I saw it in a big physics auditorium in Troy, NY).  There was the arms up and down.

The following image is an animated gif.  If you click through, you should be able to see the arms up and down.  Which should distract you from the fact that I'm in a hula hoop contest.  Little girls in a hula hoop contest - it's on until they have to raise their arms and then stick them out to their sides.  Dads in a hula hoop contest, the winner is the tallest one who starts his hoop the furthest up his body.  True dat.

See that suit jacket?  The dance cost me $300.00.  Since losing weight, I haven't bothered to replace any of my high end dress clothes.  Fortunately, there was a two-for-one sale.  Reminded me of the last time I switched jobs.  I think my mother may have bought me the last suit I own.

There were activities other than dancing...there was the toilet paper contest.  I didn't have to participate in this one.  But in my defense, I was probably the first dad on the floor for the hula hoop contest.  The goal here was to wrap your dad in as much toilet paper as possible. Yum.  Picture courtesy of Eryn.


There was cookie frosting.  After I got done with my cookie, Eryn pointed out to me that the cookie was a ballet slipper, not a car.  Boys.  She's lucky I didn't frost a gun.


Eryn frosting her cookie and looking very old in her fancy dress and pearl necklace.


Afterwards, we did our annual trip to Ring Mountain - not that we go to Ring Mountain once a year, but we always go there after the Daddy Daughter Dance - and they had Chocolate Chili pepper on tap!  An excellent evening, particularly as there's a quart of chocolate chili pepper misered away in the downstairs freezer at this very moment.

Foodshelf, the Pictorial

I mentioned that Eryn and I had visited the foodshelf to drop off food, pullups, and formula (and a check based on the amount of change we had dumped into the change jar on the bookshelf where we dump charitable donations). Here are a few pictures of our ride. Eryn really wants to bike home from school now. I picked her up on the tagalong today and told her that we'll practice biking TO school during off hours, and if we can get there, then I'm willing to have Pooteewheet drop off her bike so we can bike home. She's excited, so I imagine we'll be practicing the rest of the week.

Eryn next to the packages.

Eryn and I, courtesy of the nice young woman at the foodshelf. For Grandma and Grandpa's information, she really wanted to pose with her bicycle so you know how much she loves it.

Hail

Last Tuesday we got hail. Twice. Once around 5:00 a.m. And then again around 7:00 a.m. We were up for the 5:00 a.m. hail because there was a crack of thunder (Eryn reminded me lightning doesn't make noise) so loud that Eryn came into our room because it had scared her. Fortunately, we re-sided our house in the equivalent of concrete (Hardyboard) after the last hailstorm, so we kind of feel invulnerable. Except for the roof. And the trees. And the plants. And the shed. And the deck. But otherwise, we're like Superman. Amusingly, Pooteewheet's car had been outside for almost two weeks because I've been cleaning the garage in order to play with Eryn's Mindstorm's robot. That night, I'd finally cleared out enough of the "outgoing" pile for her to move her car back into her space. Serendipitous timing!

I do have to say that it's exciting to have a dog that doesn't whimper and pee herself when there's any amount of rain whatsover. We used to have to drag Sandy's cage down to the red room, shut all the doors, turn on loud music, and throw a blanket over her cage. It was the only way she wouldn't totally freak out. Luna didn't make much of a fuss at all, even with the blinds up. Not that she doesn't have other issues. But freaking out about thunder and lightning apparently isn't one of them.

The hail in our planter.

The wider picture.

Caponi Art Park

I've lived in Eagan for over 6 years and never been to Caponi Art Park, despite it lying between me and work. So last week after Eryn got out of school, we headed over there to check it out. No picnic or anything, just a visit to see what it was I was passing every day. It's not as interesting as the Franconia Sculpture Park, which changes sculptures yearly, but I was excited to see they have a Shakespeare Festival and I fully intend on going. Ming, do you want to go to The Tempest with me? Hmmm? It might be as good as the version you saw at the Theatre in the Round...

I've been missing out on giant rock mushrooms...


What may amount to child pornography. Originally this was a statue of Caponi's children, the younger being carried on the shoulders of the older, but it fell over and was used as part of the retaining wall. It gained a bit of obscenity during the transformation process I think.


I've been missing out on big green phallic plants, of the sort you see in The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verrill.


I've been missing Pooteewheet telling off trees. Get thee to an arborist! Why wouldst thou be a breeder of twigs!?


And I didn't know Naga, the giant snake from Harry Potter, lived there. The digesting animals that are visible is a nice touch. Someone I was listening to on Monday compared a particular project to a pig in a snake. Maybe she'd been to the art park recently.


BRAINS!!! BRAINS!!!!!!! And finger food.


You can assume this is an accidental photo if you like.

First Big Ride of the Season - Minnesota River Valley

Yesterday, I managed to get a bit off sunburn bicycling down into the Minnesota River Valley with Eryn trailing along on the tagalong. We biked over 14 miles, half of it downhill and half of it climbing back up out of the valley. I was exhausted and hit the sack just after 10.

We spent a lot of our time at the Jens Caspersen boat landing. A rather seedy looking area, but it drops you down by the river where you can cross to the other side and bike along the center of the river (sort of), or along the bank. We did a bit of both, as well as cruising down the road to Black Dog power plant. I'm sure there are mothers out there that would disagree with that choice of path as there's not much of an area to bike along the side of the road, but Eryn loved bicycling up to the tall smokestacks and rolling around the woods.

Just to prove it's a bit questionable if you're not with a 6'2" 250# man, here's the memorial for the area, covered in faux blood.


Here's the pedestrian bridge we rode over to the other side. I think I commented on this last year as well, but I'm saving you a picture of a woman with her legs spread drawn around a post hole. Classy! I don't think Eryn really noticed it. She was busy checking out the view.


Here's Eryn in front of the bridge. Note that she is NOT trespassing.


I'm not trespassing either. Don't I look like I belong in front of all that graffiti? I'm such a tough. Next thing you know I'll be tagging Shannon's car.


Here's a close up of Eryn that's pretty cute.


Eryn and I saw some of Ghost's graffiti on the pedestrian bridge. Pooteewheet is all over his signage while she takes picture of discarded bicycles, bird poop, and dead trees (said pictures turned out pretty well, so maybe she'll post a few).


Eryn caught mid-dance. It looks like she's doing some sort of Talking Heads move.

He's not a Princi-pal...

I'm glad we're looking at Thomas Lake, because it looks like Rahn elementary (AP via the StarTrib) could pose problems for someone Eryn going into first grade.

"EAGAN, Minn. – An elementary school principal could be disciplined for allegedly forcing a 6-year-old boy to unclog a toilet with his bare hands. The principal of Rahn Elementary has been on paid leave since mid-December..."

I remember how excited Dan'l used to get about the women at the doll factory plugging up the toilets all the time, and he'd have to snake them. But they were adults. If you're forcing a 6 year old to dig around in feces, no matter how angry you are about clogged toilets, you need to reevalute your job, the bleed over of personal issues at work, or how long it's been since you had a vacation.

Daddy Daughter Sweetheart Dance

Pooteewheet threw a picture of Eryn and I at the Eagan Daddy Daughter Sweetheart dance up on Facebook, but I thought I'd post something here as well so I could add a few videos of the dancing. The dance was on Superbowl Sunday, and from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. central time. It was layered over the entire game. Fortunately, I came home for the last five minutes which were the most interesting.

I note the game, because the woman running the dance apologized to the audience several times for the date and assured everyone it would never be on that date again. On the positive side, Eryn got a teddy bear, a cloth rose, and a second teddy bear centerpiece because there were so many bears and centerpieces left over from no-shows that it was less of a lottery and more of a handout. I presume I'm a good Dad for going to a dance instead of watching the game.

We did have a great time. We got dressed up. Drank lemonade. Made Valentine's cookies. Colored heart magnets. And danced. I felt bad because some of the fathers lifted their daughters up for a slow dance, and Eryn's just too big for that (or I'm too weak...take your pick). She looked like it made her feel a bit sad, but she seems to understand. She stated after the first hour, her hair a bit sweaty, "Dad. Dancing is like exercise."

So here we are, dressed up for the dance. My suit hasn't been out of the closet in so long the shoulders were dusty. I'm not sure I've had it on since Eryn was born.


Here's Eryn dancing for the camera. Hamming it up a bit.


And here's me doing a white guy dance with her, although I can't quite get her to stop dancing for the camera. We didn't really capture her favorite move in this video. The spin. She likes to spin, until it looks like she should puke. One hand spin clockwise. One hand spin counterclockwise. Two hands,spin around and spin back. Spin around me with other spins, like a planet orbiting the sun. Sometimes it involved using the rose or the teddy bear as a pivot point. Made me dizzy just standing there.


The two bears have been named. The larger bear is Teddy Bear. The smaller bear is Teddy. I shouldn't complain. I once named two of the stuffed wiener dogs Pooteewheet owns Dick and Dick Dick.

Dystopic Highways

I should turn that into a song. It would be catchy I think. "Dystopic highways, authoritarian byways...dum, de, dum, de....I AM A BOOT STAMPING ON YOUR FACE FOREVER!!!!!"

Oh yeah. That's the stuff with which I could oppress a population. Perhaps not as good as my boss's inadvertent country title, "Cold Husband, Warm Car", which is destined to be a Minnesota classic, but I could get some mileage out of my song on the punk scene.

Pooteewheet had noticed this license plate in our area before, and she finally managed to snap a picture with her cell phone. It could be a Lucas fan, but I prefer to think it's someone else in love with the idea of making everyone live in a repressive society.

Halloween's Not Quite Over

We found the second to the last Halloween 2008 geocache yesterday. After that, it's all math to find the hidden thirteenth cache. Eryn's excited, pondering what "Coughin up a Lung" might be referring to as a container. This was our third trip back to the same place to find number twelve. The first time it was dark and we couldn't find it, although I probably touched it in retrospect. The second time, I had checked the geocaching site the day before, which was too early to get the updated coordinates by the time we checked the next day (they'd moved it because neighbors were getting excited about seeing people in a park tree). The third time was yesterday, and I was sure I knew where it was, and yet still couldn't find it, even with Eryn and Pooteewheet acting as four extra eyes. So I called the other Scott over to help me find it (as I knew he'd already found it once before) and he couldn't find it either. Out came the Blackberry to check online and pulled up new coordinates. After that, it was a piece of cake. Or toadstool.

Here I am in a tree montage. Is it any wonder the neighbors' were concerned about what was going on? According to geocaching.com, they may have felt that the tree was on some sort of association property, rather than the city park, but still, it would be concerning to have people climbing around like this within sight of your windows. Maybe they're just very bad (obvious) peeping Tom's.


Eryn was also in the tree. She was excited she could get up there by herself, despite me falling off the far side and bleeding from near my ankle. Then again, that's how I knew I was in the right tree, because I lost my shoe twice, and Scott noted he'd also lost a shoe.


Scott in the tree, checking the same place I'd checked a dozen times for the first stage of the cache.


We persevered and found this guy hanging out on the edge of the lake, every near a muskrat feeding hole in the ice. Toads make bad muskrat scarecrows. Pooteewheet clomping through the brush makes a very good muskrat scarecrow.


Eryn, hoping for a prince.


Me, hoping for a princess. Maybe a British one who looks a bit like Minnie Driver, or a French one that looks like Sophie Marceau. Given Pooteewheet was geocaching with us, that might have made for an awkward situation had it worked.


It's been a long time since I touched a statue inappropriately. This isn't quite the same, but I don't think a real toad would have appreciated me touching his geocaching hole.

Where Eryn and Dad Walk Completely Around a Lake

Eryn and I went to Thresher Fields Park today to look for one of the two Halloween caches left before we can find the mystery cache. We parked in the park and our GPS said .13 miles away, almost straight in front of the car. Like idiots, we scrambled down this muddy, concrete-ridden hill. Idiots, because a.) the cache was straight across the lake and we could have walked down the road a ways and cut in somewhere easier and b.) there was trail about 100' from the car that avoided the "danger, loose rocks" posted area.


We got to the bottom of the hill safely, however, and began our journey. The first part involved grabbing rocks and throwing them onto the ice to demonstrate why we weren't walking across the center of the lake. Here's Eryn with a few sounding stones.


Sure...it looks like the rocks are in no danger of falling in, but there were a few that stuck halfway through the ice, and another that went completely in. The first half of the lake looks like a rock garden thanks to us. In the spring, any number of fish are going to get beaned in the head after a sudden thaw.


This is where we originally thought the cache might be. Good think it wasn't. I'd have never gotten Eryn to look in the mouth of this culvert. What frightened me is that it appears to be an entrance to Marioland. One of those places where you squat down and disappear into an underground world of coins and mushrooms.


Eryn. Concrete surfing. It's all the rage in Eagan.


Just before we saw the dead deer. Half of a dead deer, really. Maybe a quarter. And nearby another 1/8th or so. It made the Halloween cache extra creepy. I took it as an opportunity to show Eryn how some bones attach to one another. Eryn was trying to be sad for this picture. Originally, she was trying to think about how much her ankles hurt, but that wasn't working. I have a more angst-ridden photo where she thought about our dead dog as part of her method acting.


The goal of the around the lake trip. Find the cache. Wear the mask.


Eryn refused to wear either scary mask, so we compromised and worked a bit with perspective.


Here's the lake we walked around. It goes quite a ways in either direction. I didn't think it was so bad, but then I wasn't wearing boots and snowpants like some people were.


Eryn, happy to be back to the starting point.