Our son Ryan alerted us to a new Asian restaurant in Anoka, so naturally we had to check it out. We hadn't seen Jerry for a while, so we asked him to come out with us. It turns out he had taken some food out earlier last week, and was very impressed with it.
The new restaurant is named Thanh Do and is located on 7th Avenue across the street from Anoka High School. It is in the row of shops next to Russia Russian Supermarket. I would post its picture, but I have yet to wrangle Dan down to show me how to do that with my new camera. Their phone number is 763-422-0040.
I looked in the MSN yellow pages and found a Thanh Do restaurant in St Louis Park. When I looked at their website and phoned, I found out the Anoka Thanh Do is their second restaurant. It is worth a visit to thanhdorestaurant.com to read their menu and their story.
The restaurant is a family business, but not what you might expect. The oldest brother, Pham, grew up the first 16 years of his life with his mother in VietNam. Wanting better for her son, she allowed him to come to America where he was adopted by the Johnson family. The family has 5 natural children and 2 additional adoptees, one from Ethiopia and one from China. Pham had worked at the Kinh Do restaurant, but wanted a business of his own. His family work together now at 2 Thanh Do restaurants, and we are lucky enough the second one is in our town!
Bob and I agree that the fried rolls at Thanh Do are even better than those at Que Viet/Village House restaurant. There was an underlying spice that really added taste beyond Que Viet's fried egg rolls. There are a number of Que Viet restaurants in the Twin Cities area; we go to the Brooklyn Park location because it is the closest for us. We compare all other Asian food to theirs because it has been our favorite for years. I ordered Basil and Pad Noodles Stir Fry at Thanh Do. Bob ordered Hot and Spicy Chicken. My brother ordered Chicken Eggs Foo Young and Fried Rice. All were exceptional, except Bob still prefers Que Viet's Hot and Spicy Chicken. Their eggs foo young came as two giant mounds with a most tasty gravy. Bob and I decided that next time we would split an order because it is more than enough for two people. The prices are a bit higher at Thanh Do than at other Asian restaurants, but it is worth it because not each diner needs to order an entree for him/ or herself.
We had dinner there. We will have to check out their luncheon menu when Bob has a day off. Of course, I would be open to lunching with others in the meantime!
The restaurant is very nicely decorated, in what the Thanh Do website describes as an "artsy storefront cafe." There are 3 urns filled with growing plants outside the entrance. Inside, oversized yellow lanterns hang from the ceiling. The walls are painted white with mirrors and black-framed mirrored pictures hung artfully. Tables are covered in white linen topped with white paper (changed after each table is served); colored chop sticks in tall glasses decorate the tables.
The wait staff is very friendly and knowledgable. Those we dealt with were young and dressed all in black. They are eager to answer questions and offer suggestions. When you finally can't eat any more, they pack up your left-overs in red microwave-safe cartons.
Visit their website to get the whole story of the restaurants and the Johnson family. You can also view the menu. We found it a bit awkward to read the prices, but that is the only drawback we found. And feel free to call us at 763-421-3849 if you'd like some company when you dine out at Thanh Do in Anoka!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Duluth!!! Some more!
Today is Thursday. I'm still a bit bummed about missing book club, but with so many of the others also missing tonight, we might be discussing tonight's book in June as well. I wrote the last entry last night--Wednesday--as an email to myself, and copied it into this blog.
It is 5:30 PM and I'm in the hotel's computer room again. Another journal entry, to warn you. Could be boring!
I straightened our hotel room early, early this morning, including putting all of Bob's change into $1 stacks. I think I fell asleep around 4:30 AM. Bob, naturally, was sleeping like a baby most of the night. OTC sleeping pills really work for him.
I woke after 8:30 and was feeling pretty happy and full of life. Bob was dressed, reading the newspaper. We had breakfast together in the hotel. Pancakes with strawberry syrup, juice, milk, and some processed sausage-like patties. It was like textured Spam with sausage flavoring. Didn't have to chew it much. But it was complimentary, and that was a good savings. Bob tried something that looked like the kind of fried eggs little girls get with their Fisher-Price kitchens. A perfectly round, white disk with a perfectly round smaller yellow disk in the center. Not one of the better choices. He also had a REAL hard boiled egg. The employee taking care of the breakfast area told Bob they would be having scrambled eggs Friday morning, so he is really looking forward to that. He loved the cheese omelettes they served Wednesday morning. Bob is a major breakfast fan. He has always loved breakfast. I, on the other hand, wake slowly and usually have a light breakfast much later. This morning, I had to lie down after breakfast to recover and digest.
So after that, we finally got in the Trailblazer about 10:30. We drove to the Omnitheater down by canal park and were disappointed to find they currently only run the IMAX shows on the weekend. Their "normal" Theater 10, though, was right next door and started their lineup at 1 PM. We decided to take a ride around to check out some of the gorgeous architecture. There are some stunning old buildings. We stopped and took pictures of the old Central High. It is no longer in use, but their bell tower rings every hour on the hour. We were there to listen to it tell the city of Duluth it was 12:00.
We returned to the movie theater and saw The Soloist with Robert Downey Jr and Jamie Foxx. Bob said it was "all right," meaning it didn't really appeal much to him. But I loved it. I told Bob I didn't want to see any movies that might show people having sex. Actually, I said people who weren't married to each other. But then, I'm not aware of any movies that have shown married people having sex. I guess that would be too nice, and kind of boring. Anyway, I'm getting so I can't take watching such; it makes me sad for a number of reasons and somewhat irritated or angry, even. I figured a show listing two male stars wouldn't include filming of any sex acts. And it didn't. It just showed a perfectly stupid shot of 3 men in stalls taken from the ceiling of a public bathroom. The camers settles on Downey's character spilling his urine sample as he tries to answer his cell. He slips on the spilled urine. LOL? Not me. It seems if they don't have a sex scene, they include the obligatory bathroom scene. It must be Hollywood's unwritten law.
Sorry about the complaints. The Soloist was a rather good movie, and it was a true story. Steve Lopez (Downey)writes a column for a LosAngeles newpaper and happens on Nathaniel Ayres(Foxx), a homeless man, in his search for a human interest article. Nathaniel has a violin with only 2 strings, but he is able to play some melodies. He parks his shopping cart in a park that has a statue of Beethoven, his favorite composer. Steve investigates Nathaniel because he can see he is indeed a musician. Nathaniel had a natural gift for music and learned the cello about the age of 11. He wanted to "catch up" with Beethoven's record of composing. He had a great teacher and practiced and practiced and practiced. He got into Julliard, but dropped out his second year because he became schizophrenic. The movie is the story of Steve's friendship with Nathaniel and of Steve's discoveries about himself and life in general. I strongly recommend this movie.
We had buttered popcorn and a soft drink, and Bob loves to get those free refills--bless his heart. He had refilled the popcorn during the show, but our drink cup was empty except for some ice when we left. Bob went up to the group of the employees putting a cardboard display together and sheepishly asked for more pop. And then -- after the smiling young woman manager went behind the previously empty snack counter -- he went on talking about how he supposed it wasn't so nice to fill it as we were leaving, but that we were entitled to one refill. I told her he most often would embarrass me this way lately. We all laughed. Ha,ha.
We were going to go see another movie, but decided to take a drive up the North Shore Road instead. To repeat, both of us enjoy going for a drive. Must have come from when we were little. It was common then for families to take "Sunday drives." Looking back, there wasn't much else to do on Sundays because all the stores were closed and we weren't supposed to play outside on the sabbath. Today we noticed many houses are for sale. It seems a greater proportion of the homes here are on the market than in the Twin Cities. It was sunny and warm. We stopped at a smoked fish shop. Wow, did it smell yummy in there! We bought a couple of postcards and some Minnesota wild rice. A lot of it!!! I'll be looking for lots of rice recipes when we get home.
When we got back to our Hermantown hotel, we drove past it to explore what was on the other side of the hill. We were hoping for a closer SA, but no such luck. We just got lost. Bob was complaining about the lack of road signs and markers and how poorly laid out this place is!!! I scared him when I turned the Trailblazer around on a country road; he thought I would land the tires on his side of the car in a gully. But I was in control. And after figuring out we needed to keep turning right to find our way back, we pulled safely into the hotel parking lot.
It is 7 PM now. I have spent way too much time writing and rewriting this entry!
Bob is most likely sleeping. I don't dare to lie down because if I do fall asleep, I'll be up all night again! After I close this, I'll take great pleasure in shaking him awake. We'll go to Outback for a late dinner. It is right across the parking lot. So convenient. And no danger of us getting lost again.
It is 5:30 PM and I'm in the hotel's computer room again. Another journal entry, to warn you. Could be boring!
I straightened our hotel room early, early this morning, including putting all of Bob's change into $1 stacks. I think I fell asleep around 4:30 AM. Bob, naturally, was sleeping like a baby most of the night. OTC sleeping pills really work for him.
I woke after 8:30 and was feeling pretty happy and full of life. Bob was dressed, reading the newspaper. We had breakfast together in the hotel. Pancakes with strawberry syrup, juice, milk, and some processed sausage-like patties. It was like textured Spam with sausage flavoring. Didn't have to chew it much. But it was complimentary, and that was a good savings. Bob tried something that looked like the kind of fried eggs little girls get with their Fisher-Price kitchens. A perfectly round, white disk with a perfectly round smaller yellow disk in the center. Not one of the better choices. He also had a REAL hard boiled egg. The employee taking care of the breakfast area told Bob they would be having scrambled eggs Friday morning, so he is really looking forward to that. He loved the cheese omelettes they served Wednesday morning. Bob is a major breakfast fan. He has always loved breakfast. I, on the other hand, wake slowly and usually have a light breakfast much later. This morning, I had to lie down after breakfast to recover and digest.
So after that, we finally got in the Trailblazer about 10:30. We drove to the Omnitheater down by canal park and were disappointed to find they currently only run the IMAX shows on the weekend. Their "normal" Theater 10, though, was right next door and started their lineup at 1 PM. We decided to take a ride around to check out some of the gorgeous architecture. There are some stunning old buildings. We stopped and took pictures of the old Central High. It is no longer in use, but their bell tower rings every hour on the hour. We were there to listen to it tell the city of Duluth it was 12:00.
We returned to the movie theater and saw The Soloist with Robert Downey Jr and Jamie Foxx. Bob said it was "all right," meaning it didn't really appeal much to him. But I loved it. I told Bob I didn't want to see any movies that might show people having sex. Actually, I said people who weren't married to each other. But then, I'm not aware of any movies that have shown married people having sex. I guess that would be too nice, and kind of boring. Anyway, I'm getting so I can't take watching such; it makes me sad for a number of reasons and somewhat irritated or angry, even. I figured a show listing two male stars wouldn't include filming of any sex acts. And it didn't. It just showed a perfectly stupid shot of 3 men in stalls taken from the ceiling of a public bathroom. The camers settles on Downey's character spilling his urine sample as he tries to answer his cell. He slips on the spilled urine. LOL? Not me. It seems if they don't have a sex scene, they include the obligatory bathroom scene. It must be Hollywood's unwritten law.
Sorry about the complaints. The Soloist was a rather good movie, and it was a true story. Steve Lopez (Downey)writes a column for a LosAngeles newpaper and happens on Nathaniel Ayres(Foxx), a homeless man, in his search for a human interest article. Nathaniel has a violin with only 2 strings, but he is able to play some melodies. He parks his shopping cart in a park that has a statue of Beethoven, his favorite composer. Steve investigates Nathaniel because he can see he is indeed a musician. Nathaniel had a natural gift for music and learned the cello about the age of 11. He wanted to "catch up" with Beethoven's record of composing. He had a great teacher and practiced and practiced and practiced. He got into Julliard, but dropped out his second year because he became schizophrenic. The movie is the story of Steve's friendship with Nathaniel and of Steve's discoveries about himself and life in general. I strongly recommend this movie.
We had buttered popcorn and a soft drink, and Bob loves to get those free refills--bless his heart. He had refilled the popcorn during the show, but our drink cup was empty except for some ice when we left. Bob went up to the group of the employees putting a cardboard display together and sheepishly asked for more pop. And then -- after the smiling young woman manager went behind the previously empty snack counter -- he went on talking about how he supposed it wasn't so nice to fill it as we were leaving, but that we were entitled to one refill. I told her he most often would embarrass me this way lately. We all laughed. Ha,ha.
We were going to go see another movie, but decided to take a drive up the North Shore Road instead. To repeat, both of us enjoy going for a drive. Must have come from when we were little. It was common then for families to take "Sunday drives." Looking back, there wasn't much else to do on Sundays because all the stores were closed and we weren't supposed to play outside on the sabbath. Today we noticed many houses are for sale. It seems a greater proportion of the homes here are on the market than in the Twin Cities. It was sunny and warm. We stopped at a smoked fish shop. Wow, did it smell yummy in there! We bought a couple of postcards and some Minnesota wild rice. A lot of it!!! I'll be looking for lots of rice recipes when we get home.
When we got back to our Hermantown hotel, we drove past it to explore what was on the other side of the hill. We were hoping for a closer SA, but no such luck. We just got lost. Bob was complaining about the lack of road signs and markers and how poorly laid out this place is!!! I scared him when I turned the Trailblazer around on a country road; he thought I would land the tires on his side of the car in a gully. But I was in control. And after figuring out we needed to keep turning right to find our way back, we pulled safely into the hotel parking lot.
It is 7 PM now. I have spent way too much time writing and rewriting this entry!
Bob is most likely sleeping. I don't dare to lie down because if I do fall asleep, I'll be up all night again! After I close this, I'll take great pleasure in shaking him awake. We'll go to Outback for a late dinner. It is right across the parking lot. So convenient. And no danger of us getting lost again.
Duluth!!!
Following is an account of what Bob and I did here yesterday. It is more of a journal entry than anything. Now that you've been warned, decide whether you want to read on:
Bob and I are taking a mini vacation, staying 3 nights in the Country Inns and Suites in Hermantown, a suburb of Duluth. This is the second night. It is about 2 AM; I can't sleep. I always have a hard time sleeping when I'm away from my own bedroom. The hotel mattress is very comfortable, but (sigh) it simply is not my room.
I wrote a letter to book club members Tuesday evening 5/5, which turned out to be an account of what we did Tuesday. Looking back on Wednesday, I can say that since we didn't make plans other than to go see Hibbing, we had a pretty lazy day. This is what I remember:
Slept too long - I had taken an OTC sleeping pill and benadryl Tuesday night. I slept fairly well, but realized I was extra groggy because the sleeping pill uses benadryl (some long Latin name) as the sleep agent. So I got a double dose!!
When I woke up, I was still half asleep. Bob was up reading the paper, all dressed and combed. I have hazy memories of telling him to go to breakfast because I didn't feel at all hungry. He enjoyed waffles with a fresh strawberry syrup. He brought me back a banana, which was just right.
I took a shower and I believe we left the hotel around 9:30. I pointed the Trailblazer toward Hibbing and stepped on the gas.
A couple of miles up the road, we spotted an SA and pulled in for a morning Icee. Hooray!! No Icee machine. WAHHH!!! We each got a 22 ounce fountain drink. Me, Pepsi. Bob, Mountain Dew.
Continued on toward Hibbing. Spotted another SA! Lightning couldn't strike twice , could it? No, it couldn't. Although this one had an Icee machine, the Icees weren't ready. Too runny. No purchase.
The third SA sold Slushies (NOT ICEEs) ,so Bob bought one for us to share. Mountain Dew. It just wasn't the same, but it was pretty good.
I drove until the OD of benadryl caught up with me. Pulled off to the shoulder and switched drivers. Bob drove us into Hibbing and we looked around the town a bit. We were awe struck when he came upon Hibbing High School. It was built in 1920 out of sandstone. It was huge and imposing, and reminded me of the schools I attended in Minneapolis. They really don't make them like they used to. Minneapolis tore down all the public schools I attended, and it still irritates me that they chose to demolish rather than preserve as Hibbing has. It was so cool to see students running up the stairs and into the school. I took several pictures. The picture I took of a wad of gum on the ground under a railing didn't turn out, so I erased it from the camera.
We continued gawking at Hibbing from the car. Hibbing became a town in 1894, the same year at the Hinckley firestorm. We didn't happen upon the neighborhood where they keep all the old mansions, and we didn't stop to ask where the oldest part of town is. Since we had already been on a tour of a Hibbing mine years ago, Bob decided we should leave.
I was kind of disappointed but as I wrote earlier, we hadn't made specific plans. We left. Or tried to. . . We started our trip back. But we got lost in the outskirts of town. We stopped to ask a woman who was out walking her dog which way it was to the roads that would get us out of town and pointed toward Duluth. She claimed to be bad at giving directions, but she pointed and explained, and we found a road out. After looking for a hook-up to the road we came in on, and after looking at our state map in our Atlas, we got lost again.
Benadryl after-affect made the next bit a blur, but we took a route that was a bit longer than the one we took to get to Hibbing. But we are on vacation, and Bob was only mildly irritated with himself. I mean, it is a bit irritating, but we didn't have anything better to do. I kind of enjoy getting lost. I love car rides.
Super One grocery stores abound in Duluth. Bob needed butter and salt. I stayed in the car and phoned Ginger. She told me Gerald signed on with a temp agency for IT jobs. He started factory work nights just this Monday; they routinely have overtime for their workers. I asked Ginger to consider staying at the house next July while Dad and I go out west. Having Marian stay with Gaynelle isn't working too well since they live in a multi-level town home, so we need someone to stay with her at our house while we are gone.
Then we drove to our hotel. We both napped. I woke up first and took my Lasix pill. About 2:30, we ate our leftovers from Pick Wick. The prime rib tasted every bit as good as it had. Same for the Minnesota bacon wild rice I had chosed instead of potatoes. Bob enjoyed his prime rib morsels and his cheesy mashed potatoes. The rye dinner rolls held up well, but the white rolls didn't. Still, with a ton of butter, they would have been okay. But we tossed them. Bob used his butter on his potatoes and then on the apple-filled crispy we bought at Tobi's on the way up Tuesday. I had no desire for sweets at that point.
We watched TV and read while I left the Lasix work. After I was urinating less (Sorry. Was that too indelicate?), we felt it was safe to continue and we. . .
We drove down to Duluth to visit Canal Street. We had little trouble finding it and parked right across from the mall. Thank goodnes we were able to park close--good old handicap permit--because I really had to use the ladies' room again. We walked a boardwalk and sat a bit looking at Lake Superior. Being there made me feel small in comparison. We talked about that. It made us laugh.
We went back to the mall and went to Hepzibah's candy store. Malted milk balls, pecan turtles, almond bark, orange slices, and one lemon slice. $13. Cute store with a large variety.
I used the facility again. We ordered cream cheese wontons and split an order of beef in garlic sauce at A Taste of Saigon. The waitress left a whole pitcher of water with Bob because he was thirsty. I was glad when Bob only whispered to me that the beef in garlic was better at several other Asian restaurants. It was tasty, but I had to agree with Bob. As the Asian employees (family?) talked and laughed in their language, one of the men sounded exactly like Dung Chong, the owner of a Chinese restaurant had sounded to me when I was a child. The pitch and speed and the way he laughed.
I used the facility yet again. We drove back toward the hotel, but since we now knew where the SA with an Icee machine was, we continued an extra 3-4 miles, going past that first SA from earlier in the day that had no Icee machine. Luckily, this second SA's Icees were no longer runny. Eureka!!! Bob filled the gas tank and then bought Mountain Dew Icees for both of us. The texture was perfect and they had the scoop straws.
When we got back to our hotel, we were pleased that someone had left us the prime handicap parking space. We took our Icees and our bag of Hepzibah's candy in with us. I read in the BOM and finally got it straight about where Mosiah came from and how he got to Zarahemla. I talked about it and read some with Bob. Omni writes about it. Then we have Mosiah, Helaman, Helaman, Alma, Alma. Mosiah took the brass plates etc with to Zarahemla. Now I need to review how Mormon and Moroni got them. Handed down from Mosiah et al? Was the setting for the rest of the BOM Zarahemla? I don't think so because then there were years and years of contention/wars with the Lamanites.
We watched TV. Fox News channel. Bob fell asleep on the bed. I sat in the chair and put my feet up on the footstool and almost managed to stay awake to the end of some crime show. So here I am in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. (I'm in the computer room at the hotel.) I even took a sleeping pill!!! Well, it is now after 3:30 AM. I should be able to sleep now. And I'm going to take the Lasix first thing in the morning. We'll eat our complimentary waffles for breakfast and will not get up from the table without writing down our plans for the day. We want to see the Omnimax Theater, for one thing. I'd like to drive to Grand Marais, but there are things to do in Duluth and this area. Maybe the zoo. I'd like to take pictures of some of the old buildings. Both of us like historical buildings. I'm hoping there will be a really wowsy old Catholic church we can walk into.
Bob and I are taking a mini vacation, staying 3 nights in the Country Inns and Suites in Hermantown, a suburb of Duluth. This is the second night. It is about 2 AM; I can't sleep. I always have a hard time sleeping when I'm away from my own bedroom. The hotel mattress is very comfortable, but (sigh) it simply is not my room.
I wrote a letter to book club members Tuesday evening 5/5, which turned out to be an account of what we did Tuesday. Looking back on Wednesday, I can say that since we didn't make plans other than to go see Hibbing, we had a pretty lazy day. This is what I remember:
Slept too long - I had taken an OTC sleeping pill and benadryl Tuesday night. I slept fairly well, but realized I was extra groggy because the sleeping pill uses benadryl (some long Latin name) as the sleep agent. So I got a double dose!!
When I woke up, I was still half asleep. Bob was up reading the paper, all dressed and combed. I have hazy memories of telling him to go to breakfast because I didn't feel at all hungry. He enjoyed waffles with a fresh strawberry syrup. He brought me back a banana, which was just right.
I took a shower and I believe we left the hotel around 9:30. I pointed the Trailblazer toward Hibbing and stepped on the gas.
A couple of miles up the road, we spotted an SA and pulled in for a morning Icee. Hooray!! No Icee machine. WAHHH!!! We each got a 22 ounce fountain drink. Me, Pepsi. Bob, Mountain Dew.
Continued on toward Hibbing. Spotted another SA! Lightning couldn't strike twice , could it? No, it couldn't. Although this one had an Icee machine, the Icees weren't ready. Too runny. No purchase.
The third SA sold Slushies (NOT ICEEs) ,so Bob bought one for us to share. Mountain Dew. It just wasn't the same, but it was pretty good.
I drove until the OD of benadryl caught up with me. Pulled off to the shoulder and switched drivers. Bob drove us into Hibbing and we looked around the town a bit. We were awe struck when he came upon Hibbing High School. It was built in 1920 out of sandstone. It was huge and imposing, and reminded me of the schools I attended in Minneapolis. They really don't make them like they used to. Minneapolis tore down all the public schools I attended, and it still irritates me that they chose to demolish rather than preserve as Hibbing has. It was so cool to see students running up the stairs and into the school. I took several pictures. The picture I took of a wad of gum on the ground under a railing didn't turn out, so I erased it from the camera.
We continued gawking at Hibbing from the car. Hibbing became a town in 1894, the same year at the Hinckley firestorm. We didn't happen upon the neighborhood where they keep all the old mansions, and we didn't stop to ask where the oldest part of town is. Since we had already been on a tour of a Hibbing mine years ago, Bob decided we should leave.
I was kind of disappointed but as I wrote earlier, we hadn't made specific plans. We left. Or tried to. . . We started our trip back. But we got lost in the outskirts of town. We stopped to ask a woman who was out walking her dog which way it was to the roads that would get us out of town and pointed toward Duluth. She claimed to be bad at giving directions, but she pointed and explained, and we found a road out. After looking for a hook-up to the road we came in on, and after looking at our state map in our Atlas, we got lost again.
Benadryl after-affect made the next bit a blur, but we took a route that was a bit longer than the one we took to get to Hibbing. But we are on vacation, and Bob was only mildly irritated with himself. I mean, it is a bit irritating, but we didn't have anything better to do. I kind of enjoy getting lost. I love car rides.
Super One grocery stores abound in Duluth. Bob needed butter and salt. I stayed in the car and phoned Ginger. She told me Gerald signed on with a temp agency for IT jobs. He started factory work nights just this Monday; they routinely have overtime for their workers. I asked Ginger to consider staying at the house next July while Dad and I go out west. Having Marian stay with Gaynelle isn't working too well since they live in a multi-level town home, so we need someone to stay with her at our house while we are gone.
Then we drove to our hotel. We both napped. I woke up first and took my Lasix pill. About 2:30, we ate our leftovers from Pick Wick. The prime rib tasted every bit as good as it had. Same for the Minnesota bacon wild rice I had chosed instead of potatoes. Bob enjoyed his prime rib morsels and his cheesy mashed potatoes. The rye dinner rolls held up well, but the white rolls didn't. Still, with a ton of butter, they would have been okay. But we tossed them. Bob used his butter on his potatoes and then on the apple-filled crispy we bought at Tobi's on the way up Tuesday. I had no desire for sweets at that point.
We watched TV and read while I left the Lasix work. After I was urinating less (Sorry. Was that too indelicate?), we felt it was safe to continue and we. . .
We drove down to Duluth to visit Canal Street. We had little trouble finding it and parked right across from the mall. Thank goodnes we were able to park close--good old handicap permit--because I really had to use the ladies' room again. We walked a boardwalk and sat a bit looking at Lake Superior. Being there made me feel small in comparison. We talked about that. It made us laugh.
We went back to the mall and went to Hepzibah's candy store. Malted milk balls, pecan turtles, almond bark, orange slices, and one lemon slice. $13. Cute store with a large variety.
I used the facility again. We ordered cream cheese wontons and split an order of beef in garlic sauce at A Taste of Saigon. The waitress left a whole pitcher of water with Bob because he was thirsty. I was glad when Bob only whispered to me that the beef in garlic was better at several other Asian restaurants. It was tasty, but I had to agree with Bob. As the Asian employees (family?) talked and laughed in their language, one of the men sounded exactly like Dung Chong, the owner of a Chinese restaurant had sounded to me when I was a child. The pitch and speed and the way he laughed.
I used the facility yet again. We drove back toward the hotel, but since we now knew where the SA with an Icee machine was, we continued an extra 3-4 miles, going past that first SA from earlier in the day that had no Icee machine. Luckily, this second SA's Icees were no longer runny. Eureka!!! Bob filled the gas tank and then bought Mountain Dew Icees for both of us. The texture was perfect and they had the scoop straws.
When we got back to our hotel, we were pleased that someone had left us the prime handicap parking space. We took our Icees and our bag of Hepzibah's candy in with us. I read in the BOM and finally got it straight about where Mosiah came from and how he got to Zarahemla. I talked about it and read some with Bob. Omni writes about it. Then we have Mosiah, Helaman, Helaman, Alma, Alma. Mosiah took the brass plates etc with to Zarahemla. Now I need to review how Mormon and Moroni got them. Handed down from Mosiah et al? Was the setting for the rest of the BOM Zarahemla? I don't think so because then there were years and years of contention/wars with the Lamanites.
We watched TV. Fox News channel. Bob fell asleep on the bed. I sat in the chair and put my feet up on the footstool and almost managed to stay awake to the end of some crime show. So here I am in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. (I'm in the computer room at the hotel.) I even took a sleeping pill!!! Well, it is now after 3:30 AM. I should be able to sleep now. And I'm going to take the Lasix first thing in the morning. We'll eat our complimentary waffles for breakfast and will not get up from the table without writing down our plans for the day. We want to see the Omnimax Theater, for one thing. I'd like to drive to Grand Marais, but there are things to do in Duluth and this area. Maybe the zoo. I'd like to take pictures of some of the old buildings. Both of us like historical buildings. I'm hoping there will be a really wowsy old Catholic church we can walk into.
Monday, May 4, 2009
An Excellent Article to Share
Below is an excellent editorial printed recently in the "Mormon Times" (the supplement delivered weekly with "The Church News"), by Orson Scott Card. Our son and daughter-in-law passed it on to me. They even posted it on their blog. I'm posting it for my own record and for those who don't read their blog.
Gossip is a ward-killer, for it can cause divisions and injuries that never heal.
Long ago, in a ward far, far away, my wife happened to be walking along a corridor in the meetinghouse. She had not been at the meetings held that night -- she was only stopping by to pick up something she had lent a friend.
As she passed an open door, she happened to hear her own name being spoken, and she paused in the doorway, thinking for a moment that someone had called to her. Quite the contrary.
Seated with her back to the door was a woman whom we thought was a friend. She was talking about us to another sister in the ward, one whom we knew only slightly because she had just moved in. Our "friend" was telling this newcomer all about the Cards. It was some pretty nasty stuff, and not one speck of it was true.
Even if it had been true, it would have been unbelievable that this "friend" could have had any way to know about it, but when malice is in the driver's seat, logic does not have to be a passenger.
My wife listened for a while, in full view of the newcomer, who said nothing. Then she left.We moved away from that ward not long after, but that did not mean that the poison went away.
Recently a member of our present ward, who had lived for a while in that faraway land, came to me and apologized for having believed the awful things that were still being said about me in that place.
"Now that I've had a chance to know you," she said, "I realize that you're nothing like what I was told."
Actually, my life would have been a little happier if I had not been reminded that the malice continued, but I understood how this sister felt. When you have believed a lie, and shaped your opinion of someone on the basis of it, learning the truth leads to a kind of repentance.
I'm no stranger to slander -- I've heard of the weirdest lies about myself being repeated with absolute confidence by people who have never met me. Since I chose a career in public life and have been outspoken on controversial topics, I'm not surprised, though it's no pleasure to be slandered. But when such slander happens in your own ward -- in the little village where you and your family worship and serve in callings -- the pain of it can be sharp and long-lasting.
It was about a year between the start of the gossip campaign against me and our move out of that ward. It was a year in which I wondered which of the people I met with every week believed or even spread further these nasty lies. Yet I could not answer these lies, because to make any kind of public denial would merely spread the rumors to those who had not heard them. I could only trust that those who really knew me and my family would refute the slander and uphold the reputation that we had earned through faithful service.
If such a thing has ever happened to you, I'm sure you'll understand me when I say that attending church meetings and fulfilling my callings for the year we remained in that ward was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in the church. It's bad enough to live with shame that you've earned by your own actions, but to be the helpless victim of malicious gossip makes it even harder to bear.
And yet ... it is not gossip itself, but malice and falsehood that cause the injury.For there is such a thing as good gossip, too.
The movie "It's a Wonderful Life" contains a perfect example. When George Bailey finds himself falsely accused of embezzling money from his savings and loan, the shame of it so distresses him that he thinks of ending his life. While he is off trying to figure out what to do -- with some heavenly help -- word spreads throughout the little town. People call each other, talk to each other, and the message is the same: "Our friend George Bailey is in trouble. He needs money, right away. If there's anything you can spare ... "
And when George comes home, resolved to face the shame and bear a penalty that he does not deserve, he finds that his friends have opened their hearts -- and their pocketbooks -- and contributed more than enough to make up the shortfall.
It was gossip that spread the word of his need -- good gossip.
What is gossip, after all? It is telling stories about people who are not present. And we all do it, all the time. In fact, gossip is the primary activity of human beings. It's part of village life. How lonely and friendless we would feel if nobody ever talked about us in our absence!
What makes the difference between good and bad gossip? Evil gossip is malicious -- it is designed to destroy. Good gossip is generous -- it is designed to gather help and comfort, or spread good news and build up a reputation.
Evil gossip cares nothing for truth, and even when it is true, it is twisted and spun to show the victim in the worst possible light. Good gossip is never repeated until it is verified, and only the most generous interpretation is placed on it. Sometimes even well-meant gossip is inappropriate. There are things we might learn about someone else that should only be told to the bishop or Relief Society president, and then dropped and never spoken of again. Often, however, there are needs that cannot be met through official church channels -- needs that are appropriately met by friends and fellow Saints.
How can we mourn with those that mourn if we do not know that they are mourning? How can we bear each other's burdens, if we never find out what they are? News of a birth spreads like wildfire -- that's good gossip. News that someone is in the hospital and could use a visit, or a meal for their family -- that's good gossip.
I remember the baptism of our handicapped son, Charlie Ben. Since it was going to take two of us to carry him down into the water, and it would take a long time to dry him off and dress him for the confirmation, we made no general announcement. We expected only family to attend.But the word of his baptism somehow spread, and the Primary room was packed. We did not understand, until people came up to us and started explaining how Charlie Ben had touched their lives, and what he meant to them. The word of Charlie's baptism spread as good gossip, and people came to show their love for him. That's what a loving village does. The people share true stories, good news and bad, and use those stories to help those who need helping, comfort those who are suffering and rejoice when good things happen to our friends. And when a malicious story starts to spread, good gossipers say, "I don't believe it, and I wish you wouldn't tell that story."
We put out gossip just as we would put out a fire at our neighbor's house. We spread the tale no further, except perhaps to inform the bishop or Relief Society president of what is being said, and by whom, so that errors can be corrected and sources identified and, if need be, reproved with sharpness by those in authority.
As fellow citizens in the villages of the Saints, we look after each other's reputations as carefully as we would look after each other's children.
(End of article)
I try very hard to not say things about people that I would hesitate to say if they were present. That has been my guide for a long time. My love and concern also guide me. I'm not perfect, but I'm not malicious. I'm sorry if some people think otherwise; it has never been my intention.
Gossip is a ward-killer, for it can cause divisions and injuries that never heal.
Long ago, in a ward far, far away, my wife happened to be walking along a corridor in the meetinghouse. She had not been at the meetings held that night -- she was only stopping by to pick up something she had lent a friend.
As she passed an open door, she happened to hear her own name being spoken, and she paused in the doorway, thinking for a moment that someone had called to her. Quite the contrary.
Seated with her back to the door was a woman whom we thought was a friend. She was talking about us to another sister in the ward, one whom we knew only slightly because she had just moved in. Our "friend" was telling this newcomer all about the Cards. It was some pretty nasty stuff, and not one speck of it was true.
Even if it had been true, it would have been unbelievable that this "friend" could have had any way to know about it, but when malice is in the driver's seat, logic does not have to be a passenger.
My wife listened for a while, in full view of the newcomer, who said nothing. Then she left.We moved away from that ward not long after, but that did not mean that the poison went away.
Recently a member of our present ward, who had lived for a while in that faraway land, came to me and apologized for having believed the awful things that were still being said about me in that place.
"Now that I've had a chance to know you," she said, "I realize that you're nothing like what I was told."
Actually, my life would have been a little happier if I had not been reminded that the malice continued, but I understood how this sister felt. When you have believed a lie, and shaped your opinion of someone on the basis of it, learning the truth leads to a kind of repentance.
I'm no stranger to slander -- I've heard of the weirdest lies about myself being repeated with absolute confidence by people who have never met me. Since I chose a career in public life and have been outspoken on controversial topics, I'm not surprised, though it's no pleasure to be slandered. But when such slander happens in your own ward -- in the little village where you and your family worship and serve in callings -- the pain of it can be sharp and long-lasting.
It was about a year between the start of the gossip campaign against me and our move out of that ward. It was a year in which I wondered which of the people I met with every week believed or even spread further these nasty lies. Yet I could not answer these lies, because to make any kind of public denial would merely spread the rumors to those who had not heard them. I could only trust that those who really knew me and my family would refute the slander and uphold the reputation that we had earned through faithful service.
If such a thing has ever happened to you, I'm sure you'll understand me when I say that attending church meetings and fulfilling my callings for the year we remained in that ward was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in the church. It's bad enough to live with shame that you've earned by your own actions, but to be the helpless victim of malicious gossip makes it even harder to bear.
And yet ... it is not gossip itself, but malice and falsehood that cause the injury.For there is such a thing as good gossip, too.
The movie "It's a Wonderful Life" contains a perfect example. When George Bailey finds himself falsely accused of embezzling money from his savings and loan, the shame of it so distresses him that he thinks of ending his life. While he is off trying to figure out what to do -- with some heavenly help -- word spreads throughout the little town. People call each other, talk to each other, and the message is the same: "Our friend George Bailey is in trouble. He needs money, right away. If there's anything you can spare ... "
And when George comes home, resolved to face the shame and bear a penalty that he does not deserve, he finds that his friends have opened their hearts -- and their pocketbooks -- and contributed more than enough to make up the shortfall.
It was gossip that spread the word of his need -- good gossip.
What is gossip, after all? It is telling stories about people who are not present. And we all do it, all the time. In fact, gossip is the primary activity of human beings. It's part of village life. How lonely and friendless we would feel if nobody ever talked about us in our absence!
What makes the difference between good and bad gossip? Evil gossip is malicious -- it is designed to destroy. Good gossip is generous -- it is designed to gather help and comfort, or spread good news and build up a reputation.
Evil gossip cares nothing for truth, and even when it is true, it is twisted and spun to show the victim in the worst possible light. Good gossip is never repeated until it is verified, and only the most generous interpretation is placed on it. Sometimes even well-meant gossip is inappropriate. There are things we might learn about someone else that should only be told to the bishop or Relief Society president, and then dropped and never spoken of again. Often, however, there are needs that cannot be met through official church channels -- needs that are appropriately met by friends and fellow Saints.
How can we mourn with those that mourn if we do not know that they are mourning? How can we bear each other's burdens, if we never find out what they are? News of a birth spreads like wildfire -- that's good gossip. News that someone is in the hospital and could use a visit, or a meal for their family -- that's good gossip.
I remember the baptism of our handicapped son, Charlie Ben. Since it was going to take two of us to carry him down into the water, and it would take a long time to dry him off and dress him for the confirmation, we made no general announcement. We expected only family to attend.But the word of his baptism somehow spread, and the Primary room was packed. We did not understand, until people came up to us and started explaining how Charlie Ben had touched their lives, and what he meant to them. The word of Charlie's baptism spread as good gossip, and people came to show their love for him. That's what a loving village does. The people share true stories, good news and bad, and use those stories to help those who need helping, comfort those who are suffering and rejoice when good things happen to our friends. And when a malicious story starts to spread, good gossipers say, "I don't believe it, and I wish you wouldn't tell that story."
We put out gossip just as we would put out a fire at our neighbor's house. We spread the tale no further, except perhaps to inform the bishop or Relief Society president of what is being said, and by whom, so that errors can be corrected and sources identified and, if need be, reproved with sharpness by those in authority.
As fellow citizens in the villages of the Saints, we look after each other's reputations as carefully as we would look after each other's children.
(End of article)
I try very hard to not say things about people that I would hesitate to say if they were present. That has been my guide for a long time. My love and concern also guide me. I'm not perfect, but I'm not malicious. I'm sorry if some people think otherwise; it has never been my intention.
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