a blog in two parts

part one:

minnesota, the land of lakes. there are so many lakes. one in particular is important to me and to part one of the story, and it is pike bay.

when my parents decided to buy the cabin on pike bay, i was against it. having a lake house meant we were finally real minnesotans and that didn't sit right. when i tell people i moved to new york from minnesota, i'm quick to mention my west coast roots. the more i thought about the cabin thing though, it seemed to be a great idea. and now i am oh so glad that we have that marvelous house, with its old, worn timbers and trees. i went up there as many times as i could when i still lived in st paul -- i even managed, from the end of our dock, to catch the perseid summer meteor shower falling across a sky lit green by the northern lights.

it was such a great break, getting out of the sweltering city, and special enough to see my family, but having time with my grandparents was just incredible. they don't read my blog, but luckily they know how much i love them. it was hard to see my grandmother struggling with her failing eyes, but she's still sharp and game for about anything.

the cabin has had some significant upgrades since i left -- a new paint job that makes it look like a new house, but even more important: we have kayaks. i was out on the water as much as i could be, watching herons cross the wide open sky and listening to the calls of loons. bald eagles were an everyday sight.

i was at the cabin for my 27th birthday. the last couple of years have raised the bar for birthdays: 25, chewing qat around a bonfire in the shadow of a tanzanian volcano; 26, naked at sykes hot springs in big sur.

this one held its own. up pre-sunrise and into the kayaks with dad for the six mile round trip to cass lake (see linked map above). then a ride around the 20-mile lake loop with mom. then breakfast: blueberry walnut pancakes with bacon. now that's how to start a new year of life. of course, the sashimi nicoise on the rented pontoon for lunch and the grilled duck breast for dinner helped move the day along.

and that was, more or less, minnesota. my family seems to be doing well, although they're all exhausted by the same thing that has prevented me from writing since i got home last week, and that brings us to part two.

part two:

friends. not the sitcom, but the actual people on whom we depend. i got home just in time to have a potluck birthday dinner with my friends here and was surprised by bret, one of my best friends who lives in santa monica. he's in town for a couple weeks, which is just marvelous, especially since we've played music together for years. his presence, combined with a gaggle of california friends in town for a party, have made it so this hour that i'm spending at the computer is one of about three that i've had to myself since coming home.

but you know what? it's good to be back. the day i got home, i got a new prescription for my contacts. the world came to life. the brownstones shine brighter in the western light, the curved golden tower of the williamsburg savings bank is clearer than ever before. i've come back from minnesota with new eyes with which to see this incredible place i now call home.

yes, last week the heat index was 115. it was awful. but these tremendous temperatures have only fed the fire inside me, a fire to live a good and full life, a fire to stay dedicated to that in which i believe, and a fire to greet each day with a sun salutation and a smile.