Cherish the Earth, Foster its Renewal: Our Only Hope.

Words of the Prophets Written on the Restaurant Walls?  I think so -- saw them with my own eyes in St. Paul yesterday.

The Hoyt clan had stopped in at the new French Meadow for a mid-afternoon snack.  The chow was sensational, but the environmental message even stronger.

Consider the words of Wendell Berry -- iconic poet, writer and philospher; environmental activist;  sustainable farmer;  hope-speaker about our future.    Cherish the Earth we are enjoined to do by Berry.  Foster its Renewal.

It's our Only Legitimate Hope.  I like that.  Think you will be moved to action, too.  Go see for yourselves.

These guys do know Shit from Shinola.

So, we're hanging at the brand, spanking new "Shinola" retail store on Third St and Washington Ave. Hadley, Poppina and I get a backgrounder on genesis of the corporate name -- plus, why shit and Shinola don't have much in common, really.

Go check this place out. Great goods and inspiring, persuasive young Brand Ambassadors .  Buy, buy, buy.  Leather goods, watches, exceptional bicycles.

So glad to have Shinola and companion store Filson here in the 'Cities.

80,624 Page Views. A "holy cow" Milestone.

The Poppy Blog just registered its viewer number  80, 624. That seems like a lot of folks dropping by to check out the site.  Whoever you are:  thank you.  I write this for YOU even though I don't know you, and I only occasionally get comments.  But sharing my velo adventures brings huge joy to me.  I'll keep it up if you'll keep clicking and reading.  Let me know what more/else you'd like to see. Thanks again.

Everyone Loved My Dad, "Chesty" Hoyt, MD.

Dad was a small town doctor, and a damned good one. He set broken bones, delivered healthy babies, stitched up gaping wounds, and removed his share of appendices and gall bladders.  His patients loved and trusted Dr. Chesty. We all miss him terribly today.

After medical school and a brutal tour of duty with the U.S. Navy in WW II -- Dad survived the sinking of his destroyer, the Morrison -- Chesty (patients often referred to their primo medico as Dr. Charles) set up practice in Chillicothe, OH, our hometown, and served with great distinction.

Chesty (a nick-name he picked up in college, in admiration for his barrel chest), left us nearly twenty years ago.  His memory is vital and strong and so-close, particularly around Father's Day each year.  You would have loved this guy had you known him.  He would have told you of some wild-eyed adventures,  to be sure, including the story behind that remarkable mustache.

Training for 'Y' Women's Tri, Feeling like a Kid Again.

My pal Margaret may not look dressed for the Tri, but don't let "office casual" fool you.

Mom and daughter are training hard for the YWCA Woman's triathlon, and they're doing it tag team style.  As Margaret explains:

"Kris is going to do the swimming and the running and I will do the cycling," says Mom. "I'm taking it very seriously and training nearly every day. I even have a coach."

Margaret is nothing if not optimistic and enthusiastic:

"And while I don't expect to win, I do plan to be respectable for my age bracket.  Yesterday I rode the 15 1/2 mile course as a practice run … in the rain!  All the other women on the practice ride with me seemed to be about my age.

"I am having so much fun.  I feel like a kid!"

Bill Sherman Builds Beautiful Boats!

Nantucket lightship. 24" long. Solid hull ….exciting and challenging to build, very small scale.  Looks good in its case, however.

The Brooklyn is a 1906 steam tugboat from New York harbor. It has a Cheddar ( British) Gemini miniature steam engine, boiler and water tank in it which all operates like a real steam engine and is remote controlled.

Bob's Java Hut is definitely not Starbucks.

You see the open windows, right? Just under the green awning?  The decidedly non-corporate Bob's opens up to crisp air and fresh breezes, just as soon as the weather allows.

At the table a couple grooves on double iced raspberry mochas -- hold the whip.  

The lovely young lass had just finished her ½ caf cold press and was on her way back to work.

Me?  Iced skim latte in hand, poking around, chatting up the baristas, trying to look in conspicuous, embarrassing neither my photo subjects or myself.

Bob's on Lyndale is a change-up from S'bucks, Dunn's or 'Bou.  Especially on sunny, warm, wonderful days like the ones we've we enjoyed in the 'Cities this week.

Ralph Nader: Eat Your Heart Out.

1962 Corvair Monza going strong, looking good.  This particular car doesn't appear to be unsafe at any speed, despite what we read way back when.  The house? It will come back to life once the scraping has been done, new coat of primer applied, then two coats of oil-base exterior white.

Barb Will be Missed at Harvest Moon Co-op.

Co-op members sure did appreciate and respect this lovely counter lady at the Harvest Moon in Long Lake.  Barbara was a hoot! She had a sharp tongue, a dry sense of humor, and a good word for her best customers (I count myself in that select group, of course). We love Barb, will miss her, and wish her much fun and happiness in retirement.  

Is that Heaven up There?

A helium balloon rises to the heavens. It promotes a housing development under construction nearby. Tethered by little prayer flags, supported in spirit by Old Glory and a corporate banner or two, the blue sky and puffy cumulus clouds give the scene an other-worldly look.  I pointed my camera in the general direction of the path to heaven.  Sun was much too bright to use the screen to compose the foto.  With the aperture stopped down a bit, and some dead-reckoning as re the lens, the photo came out better than I'd hoped. Are we looking UP at heaven here, or is some Force up there looking DOWN on us? 

A Couple of "Wrenches" Named Liam and Sean.

Say hello to Liam and Sean, two young "wrenches" - bicycle master mechanics.  They'd pitched their "bike hospital" tent in front of a Twin Cities office building and were making "house calls" on employee bikes.  With the help of a velo non-profit dedicated to encouraging bicycle commuting, Sean and Liam contract with enlightened employers all over the Cities, and, almost like an employee benefit, worker machines are good as new when the whistle blows at the end of the day.

Camp Arrowhead, Jackson, OH, July 1954.

On a warm, humid and long-ago summer day mid-Century, Dad and Mom drove me to Jackson, Ohio and dropped me off at Camp Arrowhead.  Brothers and sister came along for the ride. In this sentimental  Kodachrome slide, shot by my father with his 35 mm Leica, brother Joe perches in the bow of a rental rowboat, a little uncertain about pushing off from shore. I'm in the stern likely pulling in a line loaded with perch. Camp was a memorable and enjoyable event, all those summers ago. Character-building comes to mind, so does hard work.  I'll bet that Dad and Mom were happy to have invested in the development of the oldest son.