Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Not YOUR college cafeteria

Regis and I wandered up the hill to Gustavus to eat in the college cafeteria tonight. Only the seniors (senors, hahahaha) are left and most of them were on a boat cruise (thanks for that info, Jill!) so it was quiet. The people who worked there were very friendly and we enjoyed browsing the Italian section, the Pizzeria, the Grille, the Rotisserie, and all the other areas. This is not what the MSU cafeteria was like in 1970, believe me. I think it's why we all had those funky electric popcorn poppers that we used to heat up soup. Microwaves and dorm refrigerators had not been invented yet. We had a nice dinner and wandered home in our new Beetle.

I took a school trip to Albert Lea today. Just my luck that Blue Earth county was under a severe storm watch when I was coming home. Minneapolis was getting tennis ball size hail and fifty mph winds so I was glad to dodge the storms and get home before it rained anymore.

There's one of Kent Haruf's books on the table in the porch. If you haven't read his books, I'd recommend you check them out. These are my favorites:
They're wonderful stories worth reading more than one time. I always wanted to send Eventide to Robert Redford. I thought he could make a great movie out of it. This is from the publisher:

Colorado, January 1977. Eighty-year-old Edith Goodnough lies in a hospital bed, IV taped to the back of her hand, police officer at her door. She is charged with murder. The clues: a sack of chicken feed slit with a knife, a milky-eyed dog tied outdoors one cold afternoon. The motives: the brutal business of farming and a family code of ethics as unforgiving as the winter prairie itself.

In his critically acclaimed first novel, Kent Haruf delivers the sweeping tale of a woman of the American High Plains, as told by her neighbor, Sanders Roscoe. As Roscoe shares what he knows, Edith's tragedies unfold: a childhood of pre-dawn chores, a mother's death, a violence that leaves a father dependent on his children, forever enraged. Here is the story of a woman who sacrifices her happiness in the name of family—and then, in one gesture, reclaims her freedom. Breathtaking, determinedly truthful, The Tie That Binds is a powerfully eloquent tribute to the arduous demands of rural America, and of the tenacity of the human spirit.

Well, that's enough for tonight. There are rumbles of thunder in the distance, Kramer's lying on the couch chewing his toy (he could never have toys before...Bert hogged them and started fights if he didn't get ALL the toys), and I'm tired.

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