A Delicate Plant in the Frozen North

 

I am recently returned from a trip back East.  It was so much colder than I expected!  April in California is deep Spring, practically Summer.  In other parts of the country, not so much.

My trip began in Virginia at my parents' house.  They rarely leave the house anymore, but I try to walk a few miles a day in the "use it or lose it" school of thought.  So every day I would put on my coat and hat and scarf and walk around their neighborhood.  It was very cold and windy (objectively, not just to delicate plants from California).  But it was interesting to see the early Spring plants that had bloomed in California in February just blooming in Virginia.  Double Spring!

My Dad was very interested in watching the Oscars, so I fetched pork ribs from Glory Days Grill and we hunkered down in the basement.  My dad had only watched one of the contenders (The Power of the Dog) but he still stuck with it for the whole show, so we saw the slap.  Very controversial!  My Dad asked me if I realized that The Power of the Dog was a "queer" movie.  I replied that yes, I thought that was pretty obvious.  He shared that it was not obvious to him, and it was not until he read a review after watching that he realized what had been going on.  Half my genes!

Also he never turns the lights off, even when he sleeps.  I'm not talking about a small bedside lamp, I mean he hasn't turned off the bright overhead lights in his room in YEARS.  I pointed out that prisoners are tortured in that manner, and he just shrugged.

My mom and I had a nice time doing puzzles and going to Talbots.  We got take-out every night, so that was cool.  My mom's new hobby is keeping track of the goings-on in the cul-de-sac with the Pankoo Telescope she ordered from Amazon.

After my Virginia visit, I set off for St. Paul, Minnesota to do some research into fur-trading families of early Wisconsin.  "Katherine," you might say, "are you doing research for a class?"  Not exactly, I just have a tendresse for the fur-trading pioneers.  Since fur-trading took place along navigable waterways, the cities along the Mississippi from New Orleans to St. Paul are full of stories from the fur-trading era.  

My first stop was Fort Snelling.  Perhaps you've heard of it?  I'm pretty sure you haven't, unless you're from the Twin Cities, and even then you probably only know it because it has good fishing and a bike trail.  Fort Snelling was located at the northernmost navigable point of the Mississippi, and the United States maintained a fort there for many years.  Primarily to put down uprisings from displaced Native Americans.  (Yikes). It was also the center of St. Paul society (such as it was).

It was also closed for the season.  I walked down to the river landing (through the mud and the snow, if you're from the Midwest you know what I'm talking about).  Then I walked around the perimeter walls of the fort and discovered a back gate that had been propped open.  "Hmm," I thought, "Do I dare?".  And then I thought, "When am I going to be back here?" so I took myself on an illicit tour of the fort, keeping an eye on the open back gate.  I saw the park ranger's car and sprinted for the exit.  I made it out about a minute before he closed and locked the gate.  That would have been a fun telephone call.  "Uh, excuse me, I seem to be locked inside Fort Snelling?"

My hotel in St. Paul was the Celeste St. Paul, a former convent.  I was pretty excited to fulfill my eighth-grade dream of being in a convent.  (I was an extremely awkward adolescent, and a convent seemed a convenient sanctuary from the cruel world at the time). The Celeste has leaned into the convent theme and has religious art on the walls, and pews for benches, and has turned the chapel into the wedding suite.

The next day I went for my pre-arranged appointment at the Minnesota Historical Library, where I spent a blissful day sorting through boxes of old letters and manuscripts.  Then I walked through the mansion neighborhood of Summit Avenue and fetched up at a brewery (like you do).  The brewery was a popular spot and the inside looked like a super-spreader event, so I sat outside on the patio in the 40 degree weather (balmy for St. Paul).  I got to chatting with a young couple who, on learning that I was going on to Duluth, told me about the Vikre Distillery.  An extremely useful tip!! Thank you, young couple.

After checking out of the Celeste, I attended mass at St. Louis King of France Church, the oldest French church in St. Paul.  It is a little jewel-box of a church and has this excellent window showing the Native Americans being "saved" by the French Jesuits. (Ha)

Then I ate a hamburger and drove to Duluth.  Why Duluth?  I dunno, I just wanted to go there and see Lake Superior and tour Glensheen Mansion.  It's only a two hour drive north, but the amount of snow on the ground increased dramatically as I got closer, and the lakes got more frozen.  I checked into my darling AirBNB above a wood artist's shop and drove out to Canal Park, the tourist area near the Aerial Lift Bridge.  

Imagine my excitement when after parking and heading to the canal, I realized the Lift Bridge was in the process of being lifted for an enormous ship!! I took lots of pictures but I will only share a few.

Extremely Cool.  I then walked over to Vikre Distillery, which is also Extremely Cool.  It's the sort of place that has purple velvet couches and interesting light fixtures and fireplaces and Bee's Knees.

I bought myself a decently warm toque in the gift shop and headed out into the night to discover that it was actively Snowing.  In April.  A month I associate with picnics and tulips.

In the morning I set out for Glensheen Mansion.  Perhaps you've heard of it?  If you're from Minnesota, you have.  It is the lovely home custom-built from 1905-1907 on the shore of Lake Superior for iron-ore magnate Chester Congdon, no expense spared.  It was lived in continuously by family members until 1977, at which point Chester's daughter Elizabeth was the only Congdon still residing in the mansion.  Elizabeth and her night nurse were murdered by her son-in-law (for the inheritance money).  The family then donated the house to the University of Minnesota Duluth, who maintain it as a historic house museum.

Having read the book Will to Murder before visiting, I knew that the house docents will not mention the murders, but will show you where they happened if you ask.  Aside from the creepy murder, it is a beautiful home and it has all the original furnishings.  Because I visited on a snowy week-day, it was just me and the bored University student docents.  It was great.  I stayed for hours.

I headed back to Canal Park where I was honestly stunned to find that the canal had filled with ice since the day before.

I am not meant for the Great White North, I thought to myself as I headed into the Maritime Museum.  The displays were interesting, but what I enjoyed most was chatting with the gift-shop lady, who was sort of starved for conversation, it being the off-season and all.  She helped me select an excellent Lift Bridge souvenir t-shirt.

Then it was back to Vikre for some crafty cocktails and a charcuterie board.  I bid my new distillery friends goodbye and headed outside where I found that a dense fog had descended and visibility was about 10 feet.  "What fresh hell is this," I thought, as I drove 5 mph to my next stop, the Zenith Bookstore.

I love to find the independent bookstores in the towns I visit.  It always feels like I've found my tribe when I enter.  It's like stepping into a warm bath (if I ever took baths, which I don't, but stepping into a warm shower just doesn't have the same ring).

The next morning I hit the road for Madison, Wisconsin, a five-hour drive.  I was a little concerned because the gift-shop lady warned me about all the deer I would encounter, but as it happened I only saw one, and it was very dead and in the process of being eaten by a bald eagle.

In Madison I stayed in a 1910 mansion that has been converted into a B&B.  My suite was the whole right side of the downstairs, the dining room and the old kitchen and a sun room.  Very Cool. On my first night I got to cook Amy a meal in my funky old kitchen.  

While Amy was in class the next day, I visited the Mystery to Me bookstore and then went to the Madison Central Library to do some research.  I wandered into the Local History Room where there was one other researcher, an older man who was playing Grateful Dead tunes on a portable speaker and whizzing through microfilm.  As I browsed the books, he looked up and said "That's one of mine."

"Oh, wow!" I said, as I examined The Illustrated Sesquicentennial History of Madison, by Stuart Levitan, "It's a dream of mine to be published by the Wisconsin Historical Society Press".  We had a lovely confab about Wisconsin history, punctuated by his reading aloud the titles of porno films he encountered as he skimmed through microfilm copies of Madison newspapers from the 1970s.  "So much porno!" he kept exclaiming.

Amy and I had a lovely dinner at Sardines.  

On Thursday I performed the motherly duty of taking Amy's Subaru to the dealership for some repairs.  While the car was being serviced I walked over to Half-Price Books in the snow, where I found an absolute treasure-trove of Wisconsin history books, including Stuart-from-the-library's book!  As I was paying, I excitedly pointed to Stuart's book and said "I met this guy!".  The clerk looked a little nonplussed and I realized that I had my finger on a picture of long-dead Madison founder James Duane Doty.  "Oh, not the dead guy," I clarified, "the author!"  "Either way, I'm sure it was interesting," the über-cool clerk replied.  

On Friday I walked through the snow to the Historical Society Museum, which has several informative displays about the fur-trading era.  Then I met Amy and their friend Gage and Gage's mom downtown and we hung out for hours.  It was a really fun evening.  

On Saturday it finally stopped snowing, so of course I had to leave for California.  I really enjoyed my time in the Great White North, but I'm glad to wear something other than the one sweater I packed that I wore every day, and it sure is nice to sit outside in the sun under trees that already have all their leaves.