It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to hang out on a Sunday, running errands and making grown-up dinner and wearing stretchy pants. Reason #1: two weeks ago I spent a weekend in Ely with my best friend and her husband and 8 bottles of homemade wine. Let’s start there.
Road-tripping with a nerd: “OMG THERE’S A PAUL WELLSTONE HISTORICAL MARKER CAN WE STOP PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE?”
I’m gonna have to go up north more often. I have literal bedfuls of dogs there.
These Anishinaabe dancers at the Harvest Moon Festival were considerably more picturesque than the chili tots or wild rice/walleye pizza, although those tasted way better, I assume.