Walks with the Chowhound

© Serena Mira asta/astaart.com

Selby is a chowhound. an inveterate, unrelenting, willfully indiscriminate gastronome of Saint Paul street food. naturally he is named after the street where he lives, Selby avenue, and naturally, when I come to dog sit him, we commence our journeys from that haunt of celebrated eateries, dine-ins, and dessert stops.

Empty Promise

the Jaws Of Christ, an altered-book sculpture created by Joshua hosterman from hesba Stretton’s 1891 tome, the Child’s life of Christ.

The world is filled with empty promises.
it’s like when you tell a person you love them,
and they say it back,
but after that
y’all never speak again.

The Drive

© Leann E. Johnson/lea-way.com

Not wanting to alarm my husband and infant son, in case they’ve fallen back asleep, I don’t call. I don’t even text. But I do take a picture with my camera-phone, because I need proof that I’ve done it, that I’m actually here: sitting in a 2005 toyota Matrix, outside the Saint anthony Park library. this is incredible.

In Praise of Aging

©Bob Muschewske/370SummitStPaul.com

In praise of buses rattling through the streets
In praise of passengers jostling for a seat
In praise of a transfer I didn’t need to buy
In praise of snow falling from the sky, and my down coat
Bought secondhand but warm


©Chris Emeott/EmeottPhoto.com

It was my mom’s first marriage proposal. At eight, she was the older woman. George was only six. After hasty consideration, Mom turned him down. As she explained to her mother, she couldn’t marry George. He liked carrots. She didn’t.



The midnight sky is bright with the light of new snow. Rooftops have gone missing.