September gurls, volume 1: I went to Ely.

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?"

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.

I’m gonna have to go up north more often. I have literal bedfuls of dogs there.

I went up north, and in between yoga and making mushroomy dinners and drinking A LOT we saw some Anishinaabe dancers at the Harvest Moon Festival.

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.

 

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