People standing in the steam from a hot spring in Yellowstone, late October
I’m writing this from Minneapolis, a few days late, because... We bought a house? A real house? It has a basement and a porch light and everything. My partner has been saying the word “envelope” a lot. I haven’t wanted to write too much about it for fear of jinxing it and now it’s late on the last day of the month and I haven’t written much because I’ve been busy *moving. *It’s kind of a lot. Everything feels like it takes three times longer than usual. There’s always a little bit of, “Wait, what did I come into this room for again?” in my life, but this week has bee…
People standing in the steam from a hot spring in Yellowstone, late October
I’m writing this from Minneapolis, a few days late, because... We bought a house? A real house? It has a basement and a porch light and everything. My partner has been saying the word “envelope” a lot. I haven’t wanted to write too much about it for fear of jinxing it and now it’s late on the last day of the month and I haven’t written much because I’ve been busy *moving. *It’s kind of a lot. Everything feels like it takes three times longer than usual. There’s always a little bit of, “Wait, what did I come into this room for again?” in my life, but this week has been mostly standing in rooms and wondering what I came into them to do.
New house, new state, new weather, new neighbors.
I’m Nat Bennett, and you’re reading *Mere Being, *my monthly newsletter.
I realized this morning that it reminds me of my first few weeks (months) (years) at Pivotal – that initial “all day pairing” adjustment, where I was exhausted all the time. We moved here for a bunch of reasons but one of the biggest was so we could share a property line with one of my partner’s best friends. They’ve been helping us move and having us over to dinner every night, which is great, but it also means a *lot *more socializing than I’m used to, of different types than I’m used to. It takes a hard to quantify energy to have a new human in the same space as I am.
The first time I slept over with my college boyfriend, I didn’t really sleep. We were, 18 year old idiots that we were, sleeping in twin bed, so some of it was straight physical discomfort, but mostly, my nervous system just wouldn’t power down. There was a *person, *a person right there.
I lived in California for a long time. Fourteen, fifteen years altogether. Longer than I’ve lived anywhere. Mostly we moved to Minnesota to move to Minnesota, but it’s hard not to feel at least a *little *like the move is a failure to stay in California.
Mostly, it’s a move *to *Minnesota. Specifically, Minneapolis, to a neighborhood you have probably heard about. It is full of trees and dogs and squirrels, and worker-owned coffee shops, and little frontyard coffee shops. There’s a barbecue joint that serves only turkey. A few nights ago we went to an outdoor Halloween puppet show where a big skeletal moose arrived via canoe.
It’s weird, living somewhere that national news writes about. The national media never writes about the real place as it is, you know? They write about the concept of the place, snippets of truth quilted into something wholly unrecognizable – “an illusion where things appear to be present but are not what they seem.” The New York Times deals entirely in Maya – a Maya on top of Maya, illusion all the way down.
It’s hard to capture the sensation of a place in non-fiction generally – the gestalt experience of *being there. *You have to go to fiction for this. When I most miss New York City, for instance, I rewatch *30 Rock. *
Speaking of: Do you know of a good novel written set in San Francisco, especially *recently *in San Francisco? I am in the market for recommendations here.
When given the choice, children choose “egg.”
For Halloween, we handed out Reese’s Cups, M&Ms, and SnakYard Quail Eggs that we got from CostCo. It started out as a joke but the children are remarkably excited about the eggs. (Even with my partner shouting from the next room, “They’re horrible!”) We’re thinking of becoming the “quail egg house.”
This month’s recipe is: Sautéed cabbage. I’ve been on a real cabbage kick this month. I like this recipe but you barely need one.
Get a head of cabbage, and maybe an onion. Cut the cabbage into quarters and core it. Slice it and the onion into thin strips. I like to do the onion first and get into the pan with some oil and/or butter for a few minutes before the cabbage but I don’t think it’s really necessary.
Use a big pan because there will be a lot of cabbage at first but it’ll cook down.
Use a pair of tongs to turn it *occasionally. *Ideally you’re scraping up the bottom just enough to keep it from burning. You want it to get pretty browned. Add some salt, probably while it’s cooking but I don’t know that it makes a huge difference.
At the end, vinegar to taste. I’ve tried apple cider and white wine and prefer the white wine.
It makes a good side dish for savory winter dinners when you want something green but also hot.
Soon I want to try grilling the cabbage. (We’ve got a grill again! Two grills! The neighbors have a gas grill and we have a charcoal ceramic smoker. I am *excited. *Winter in Minnesota is a great time for smoking, at least with properly insulated device.)
That’s all I’ve got this month. (Last month? I don’t know – I intend to get the next one out a little early but time is what it is.)
More soon.
- Nat