Petrichor

Archived | March 27, 2015 | By

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I’d just gotten in from a rather turbulent plane ride from Ft. Lauderdale, and my head was spinning as I waited for my bag to come ‘round the carousel. Once I had it, I made my way outside where Mr. S and our youngest were waiting to pick me up. And how glorious it was, to climb into the car where there were snacks for me, and warmth, and the voices of people I love, and no turbulence at all. We headed north, and I cracked my window a bit and breathed in fresh Minnesota air, and it was good.

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A Postcard from Mrs. Sundberg, Part 2

Archived | March 19, 2015 | By

Listened to the show Saturday, and it was not bad. Wasn’t THE show as I know it, but it was. I attended the Sail-away Party, Sea View Pool Lido Aft, where wine and pink drinks were served and Mr. Keillor led us all in a sing-a-long — “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” and “Roll Out the Barrel” and “My Country ‘Tis of Thee.” And “I Saw Her Standing There.”

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A Postcard from Mrs. Sundberg

Archived | March 16, 2015 | By

Getting ready to embark upon a sea voyage, and a bit tired from the journey to Florida. Don’t get me wrong — I love to travel, but I confess there are moments when I miss my kitchen. And my own bathroom. I had a thought yesterday while holding on for dear life in the airplane restroom that, were I to stay in there long enough, I might be sufficiently mummified by the constant dry air blowing at me from all directions. Who would find me? What would they think? And then there was that moment when, while waiting to board a shuttle bus, a man turned in my direction as if about to speak and let launch a million particles from his lungs in a sneeze that might have set a record in my hometown. And the moment when, at last in my hotel room, I opened my carefully packed suitcase to find that my pump hairspray had been jammed up against the side of the suitcase and had leaked half its contents. Despite its being sealed in a gallon size freezer bag, my suitcase still smells sweetly of hairspray.

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What’s Inside

Archived | March 6, 2015 | By

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. We’re rounding the curve of winter into spring and the weekend was all about cold and snow in the forecast and thoughts of spreading some salt on the walk. Instead I made a lemon meringue pie and took a walk through the woods with Mr. S and did a bit of spring cleaning. I found the kids’ wood burning kit in the hall closet, and some paints, and got this longing in me to paint a picture. And so I did. The paints are oil-based, and though I’m no expert, I don’t think they’re the ideal paint for the sunset I was attempting, but I gave it a whirl and it’s a nice sunset, though Mr. S thinks it’s a bit intense with all the fuchsia and purple and azure. I told him Spring is coming and I’m feeling creative and there isn’t a color on the planet that doesn’t show up in a sunset now and then.

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