Monday, April 16, 2012

Mpls Misc

After arriving at at the MSP airport, I made a quick trip to the Mall of America (half hour!) and then started to head north through the city. My 200 mile drive would take me up I-35 through Duluth and then east for an hour or so to Washburn, Wisconsin. By the time I hit the road, rush hour was getting into full swing.
Boy, I had forgotten how icky rush hour is in the Twin Cities. I thought Seattle-Tacoma was bad, (and it is) but after being away for so many years, I had underestimated the Twin Cities’ “slow and go” freeway crawl. I was on the south end of town and had to head north across the entire metro. Because of rush hour, and since I had a rental car and was not at the mercy of anyone else’s transportation, I stayed off the freeways as much as possible. My route took some nostalgic turns through old neighborhoods where Frank and I lived.
Here are some miscellaneous pictures of my journey through town:
This is the first apartment that Frank and I rented together.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Odd Socks

At the Mall of America, there is an odd little sock store called Little Miss Matched. They sell mismatched socks by the trio – yes, you get three per package – with the idea that you should not have matching socks.
Personally, while I’m not interested in shelling out up to $3.11 plus tax per sock, I absolutely love this idea.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

The Hunger Games at the Mall of America

About a month ago, I made an impromptu visit to my old stomping grounds in Northern Wisconsin and the Twin Cities. After landing at the airport, I drove my rental car across the freeway to the Mall of America. I wanted to stop in for a just few minutes before heading north to Wisconsin.
Yes, it is possible to stop in for just a few minutes.
If you have willpower.
I was there for a half hour, tops, and that includes walking to and from parking. The visit would have been even faster if not for the day’s scheduled event and me with my camera.
I guess I’m getting old. I hadn’t heard of The Hunger Games before stopping at the Mall of America. Maybe I led a sheltered life, too, since I had never been part of a screaming frenzy of teenagers.
Both book-turned-movie and screaming teenagers filled the south end of the MOA (Mall of America) when